• Pao  Li- 
•Ti  e Missionaries 


BY  W.  C . KITCHIN 


, n.rj.'if 


PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


Purchased  by  the  Hammill  Missionary  Fund. 


PZ  3 . K648  Pam 
Kitchin,  William  Charles, 
1855-1920. 

Paoli:  the  last  of  the 


mutsi  nna  r i es 


■111 


it. 


% 


SfTi 


/ 


PAOLI ; 

The  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


THE  ENGLISHMAN'S  RAPIER  PIERCED  HIS  ADVERSARY’S  WRIST.  J'rontUpiece. 


PAOLI: 

THE 

Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


A PICTURE  OF  THE  OVERTHROW  OF  THE 
CHRISTIANS  IN  JAPAN  IN  THE 
SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY. 


BY 

W.  C.  KiTCHrN, 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  G.  A.  TRAVER  AND  HENRY  BOUCHE. 


NEW  YORK: 

ROBERT  BONNER'S  SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 
1890. 


V 


Copyright,  1890. 

By  ROBERT  BONNER'S  SONS 

(All  rights  reserved.) 


PRESS  OP 

THE  NEW  YORK  LEDGER 
NCW  YORK. 


AMONG  THE  CHRISTIAN  MISSION- 
ARIES IN  JAPAN,  A EE  IV  EARNEST 
SPIRITS,  BELIEVING  THE  WORLD  TO 
HAVE  OUTGROWN  THE  RELIGIOUS  BIG- 
OTRY AND  INTOLERANCE  OF  THE  PAST, 
HAVE  DARED  TO  DREAM,  THAT  IN 
THE  “ LAND  OF  THE  MORNING,"  THE 
SCHISMS  WHICH  SO  LONG  HAVE  DIS- 
FIGURED CHRISTENDOM  MIGHT  BE 
HEALED  IN  THE  UNION  OF  ALL  SECTS 
IN  ONE  INDEPENDENT  CHURCH  OF 
CHRIST  FOR  JAPAN.  TO  THESE  THIS 
VOL  UME  IS  INSCRIBED. 


[7] 


“ If  we  see  that  the  minds  of  the  fapanese  are 
fit  and  prepared  for  evangelical  cultivation,  we 
shall  not  hesitate  to  inform  the  Holy  Father  him- 
self concerning  the  matter,  since  those  who  are 
prepared  to  come  to  the  bosom  of  the  Church  and 
the  obedience  of  the  Supreme  Pontiff,  must  be  a part 
of  the  charge  of  him  who  is  the  Vicar  of  Christ, 
the  Father  of  all  nations,  and  the  Pastor  of  all 
Christians.” 

From  Francis  Xavier's  First  Letter 
from  Japan  ; Dated  Kagoshima,  No- 
vember ii,  1549. 

“ The  Christians  have  come  to  fapan  to  dissem- 
inate an  evil  law,  to  overthrow  right  doctrine,  so 
that  they  may  change  the g over mneut  of  the  country 
and  obtain  possession  of  the  land.  If  they  are  not 
prohibited  the  safety  of  the  state  will  assuredly  be 
imperilled ; and  if  those  charged  with  the  govern- 
ment of  the  nation  do  not  extirpate  the  evil,  they  will 
expose  themselves  to  Heaven  s rebuke.” 

From  the  Edict  of  the  Shogun  Iye- 
yasu  against  Christianity;  Issued 
January  27,  1614. 


PREFACE. 


HE  title-page  sets  forth 
the  character  of  this 
book.  It  is  an  historical 
picture,  in  which  truth 
outweighs  fiction.  Ni- 
rado  Shiro,  Ashizuka, 
Chijiwa  and  Oyano  ; their 
foes,  Nabeshima,  Itakura  and  Yam- 
ada, — all  wrere  actual  personages, 
prominent  in  the  stirring  events  that  attended  the  over- 
throw of  Christianity,  and  the  achievements  ascribed  to 
them  in  the  following  pages  are  substantially  those  which 
manuscript-chronicle  and  tradition  have  connected  with 
their  names.  Francesco  Paoli  and  Lord  Mori  are  types  : 
the  former  of  that  courageous  but  intolerant  zeal  which, 
in  the  name  of  religion,  strove  to  establish,  during  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  an  European  sov- 
ereignty over  Japan  ; the  latter  of  that  spirit  of  protest 
against  priestly  intrigue  and  corruption,  which,  in  the 
persons  of  a few  independent  thinkers  among  the  native 
converts,  lifted  up  its  voice  in  denunciation  of  the  claims 
of  an  imperious  church  and  in  behalf  of  a purer  faith. 

[9] 


IO 


Preface. 


From  October,  1882,  until  August,  1885,  the  author’s 
home  was  in  the  picturesque  city  of  Nagasaki,  on  the 
crest  of  Higashi-yama,  the  hill  so  frequently  mentioned 
in  the  earlier  part  of  the  narrative  ; and  it  was  while  he 
was  standing,  one  of  the  summer  evenings  of  1883,  upon 
the  summit  of  the  rocky  islet  Takaboka,  with  its  awful 
memories  vividly  before  him,  that  the  idea  of  telling  the 
story  of  the  fall  of  the  Christians,  in  the  form  of  an  his- 
torical novel,  first  took  shape  in  his  mind.  Hencefor- 
ward, his  leisure  time  was  spent  in  visiting  the  vari- 
ous places  associated  with  the  last  desperate  struggle  of 
the  doomed  church  ; in  the  study  of  what  had  already 
been  written  upon  the  subject  ; and  in  gathering  from 
the  lips  of  the  people  legendary  accounts  of  “ the  great 
rebellion  of  the  jashiu-mon which  have  been  handed 
down  from  father  to  son  for  more  than  two  and  a half 
centuries.  During  the  course  of  his  investigation,  two 
hitherto  unknown  manuscripts,  written  by  eye-witnesses 
of  the  war  concerning  which  they  gave  a minutely  de- 
tailed account,  were  brought  to  light.  Upon  these  the 
present  volume  is  mainly  based,  and  where  the  author 
has  deviated  from  them,  it  has  been  to  follow  what  he  is 
convinced  is  a more  truthful  account ; or,  where  unessen- 
tial particulars  are  concerned,  to  give  the  novelist  an 
opportunity  for  reproducing,  by  the  creation  of  imaginary 
incidents  and  characters,  the  social  physiognomy  of  the 
age  in  which  the  historical  personages  lived  and  moved. 

Boston,  August,  1890. 


* Corrupt-sect. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

Preface  9 

Introduction 17  % 

Book  First. — Two  Men  of  Destiny. 

I.  Captain  Van  Neist’s  Passengers  . . 25 

II.  Nirado  Shiro  makes  a Startling  Declar- 
ation   -3° 

III.  Further  disclosures  . . . . .38 

IV  Anjiro,  alias  Paoli  . . . . -43 

V.  The  Bishop  of  Japan  .....  46 

VI.  A Vision  of  War  57 

Book  Second. — Takaboka. 

I.  Captain  Van  Neist  receives  a Letter . . 58 

II.  The  Governor’s  Deputy  loses  his  sword  . 62 

IIP  The  First  Officer  makes  an  Explanation.  69 

IV.  A Conference  ......  72 

V.  The  Battle  . ......  77 

VI.  Ine  Tanaka.  ......  83 

Book  Third. — Bishop  Paoli  and  Nirado  Shiro 
begin  their  Labors. 

I.  In  the  Storm  among  the  Dead  . . .88 

II.  The  Story  of  a Church  Militant  . . 93 

III.  “Takaboka  and  Vengeance,  in  the  Name 

of  the  Lord  ” . . . . . . 100 

IV.  Among  Friends  . .....  104 

V.  The  Cave-Chapel  of  Kayaki  . . . 108 

[ii] 


12 


Contents. 


Book  Fourth. — The  Strange  Adventures  of 
Marmion  Beaumont. 

I.  Mynheer  Van  Sylt  has  something  to  say  . 

II.  The  Plot  of  Kanshin,  the  Deputy 

III.  Ten  Thousand  Ryo  Reward,  Dead  or 

Alive  . 

IV.  An  English  Rapier  encounters  a Japanese 

Sword  ....... 

V.  The  Story  of  a Martyrdom 

• VI.  The  Bishop  of  Japan  appears  in  a New 

Role 

VII.  Marmion  Beaumont  Falls  into  another 

Adventure 

VIII.  The  Ordeal  of  the  Cross  .... 
Book  Fifth. — The  Hour  of  the  Christians’  Woe. 

I.  Ine  Tanaka’s  Strange  Lover 

II.  Lord  Oda’s  Place  of  Entertainment  . 

III.  Ando  the  Hunchback  .... 

IV.  The  Warrior-Pilgrim  Recounts  a Family 

History  

V.  A Climax  of  Perils 

Book  Sixth. — The  Household  of  Mori. 

I.  Una  the  Eurasian  . 

II.  The  Protestant  of  Unzen  . . . . 

III.  The  Story  of  the  Rescue  . . . . 

IV.  Hopes  and  Fears  . . . . . 

V.  The  Hermitage  

VI.  A Dream  and  a Portrait  . . . . 

VII.  The  Host  of  the  Kwassui-ya  has  a Tale  to 

Tell 

VIII.  Old  Foes  in  New  Surroundings. 

Book  Seventh. — Friends  and  Foes  Strangely 
Meet. 

I.  An  Incident  by  the  Way  . 


Page 


”7 

I 2 I 

132 

*35 

142 

i47 

*53 

*59 

168 

180 

184 

189 

i93 

200 
204 
2 1 2 
218 
221 
224 

229 

233 


. 240 


Contents. 


13 


Page 

II.  Fortune  favors  Yamada  the  Ronin  . . 246 

III.  Back  to  Life 248 

IV.  Una  meets  her  Hero 252 

V.  Exultation 255 

VI.  Him  whom  we  would  Shun  we  Meet.  . 260 

VII.  Nabeshimi  meets  a Fair  Foe  and  is  Con- 
quered   262 

VIII.  Enemies  and  Rivals 266 

IX.  The  very  Wonderful  Exploit  of  Bishop 

Paoli  .......  269 

X.  Her  Foe  and  Lover 276 

Book  Eighth. — How  they  Kept  Christmas  at 
Arima. 

I.  A Surprise  that  was  no  Surprise  . . 283 

II.  Takaboka  is  Revenged  ....  289 

III.  The  Rivals  meet ......  293 

IV.  Yamada  the  Ronin  again  ....  300 
Book  Ninth. — How  Nirado  Shiro  kept  his  Vow. 

I.  Gathering  Shadows  .....  307 

II.  A Woman’s  Battle  and  Victory  . . .310 

III.  At  the  Hermitage  .....  317 

IV.  The  Komamonoya’s  Wooing  meets  with 

an  Interruption  .....  324 

V.  A Discovery  that  came  none  too  soon  . 329 

VI.  The  Return  of  the  Chief  ....  331 

Book  Tenth — Friends  Become  Foes. 

I.  Another  Midnight  Conflict.  . . . 335 

II.  Death  before  Disgrace  ....  341 

III.  Bearding  the  Foe  .....  344 

IV.  Sword  or  Famine,  Which  ? ...  347 

V.  An  Awakening  ......  352 

VI.  The  Eve  of  Battle  .....  355 

VII.  Nirado  Shiro  makes  his  Fate  . . . 360 


H 


Contents. 


Page 

VIII.  The  Servant  becomes  the  Master  . . 364 

IX.  A remarkable  re-conquest  ....  373 
Book  Eleventh. — Death  hath  many  Doors  to 
let  out  Life. 


I. 

In  the  Camp  of  Kai  .... 

• 379 

II. 

The  Coming  of  the  Christians  . 

. 382 

III. 

Prince  Nabeshima’s  turn  comes. 

^4 

IV. 

Devotion,  Destiny,  Deliverance  . 

• 394 

V. 

The  Beginning  of  the  End  . 

• 399 

VI. 

Saved ! 

• 4°5 

VII. 

The  Messenger  of  Heavy  Tidings 

. 409 

VIII. 

Faithful  to  the  Last  .... 

. 412 

IX. 

Alas,  too  Late  ! . 

. 421 

X. 

An  Unexpected  Meeting 

• 423 

XI. 

Retribution  ...... 

. 429 

XII. 

“ Paoli  to  the  Rescue  !”  . 

• 43 1 

XIII. 

At  Last 

. 437 

XIV. 

Joyful  Tidings  

. 440 

Book  Twelfth. — The  Light  goes  out  in  Dark- 
ness. 

I.  A Victory  that  was  almost  Defeat  . . 445 

II.  The  Prince  of  Kai  astonishes  Marmion 

Beaumont  447 

III.  The  Day  Decreed  by  Destiny  . . .451 

IV.  The  Prince  of  Kai  becomes  a Prophet  . 457 

V.  The  Church  of  Christ  in  Japan  . . 462 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page 

1.  The  Englishman’s  rapier  pierced  li is  adver- 

sary’s wrist  .....  Frontispiece 

2.  Head-piece  to  Preface  ......  9 

3.  Head-piece  to  Introduction  . . . . .17 

4.  The  Spuyten  Duyvil  ......  25 

5.  Shiro  makes  a startling  declaration  . . -33 

6.  The  islands  in  Nagasaki  Bay  . . . -49 

7.  Captain  Van  Neist  watching  the  approach  of  the 

factory  boat 58 

8.  The  boat  bringing  the  Governor’s  deputy  . . 65 

9.  They  were  on  the  extreme  edge  of  a ledge  of 

rock  . . . . . . . . .81 

10.  The  boat  of  the  three  Christians  . . . .88 

11.  A confused  clamor  of  voices  arose  in  the  govern- 

ment boat  ........  97 

12.  Shiro  was  now  standing  by  the  side  of  Paoli  . 113 

13.  Nagasaki  . . . . . . . . 117 

14.  The  three  men  were  seated  on  the  mats  . .129 

15.  The  old  man  bent  his  head  over  the  English- 

man’s shoulder  .......  145 

16.  She  knelt  reverently  beside  the  cross  . . . 161 

17.  Page  putting  on  a warrior’s  armor  . . . 168 

18.  Higashi-vama  .......  177 

[15] 


List  of  Illustrations. 


1 6 


Page 

19.  Mt.  Unzen  ........  200 

20.  “ I beheld  the  Jesuit’s  terrible  form  towering  over 

Lord  Nebeshima  ”......  209 

21.  Sanji  before  the  Lord  of  Kai  ....  240 

22.  The  girl  stood  regarding  the  outlaws  with  a ter- 

rified look  ........  241 

23.  The  Ronin  dashed  himself  against  the  English- 

man .........  257 

24.  Straight  to  the  place  where  Shiro  was  sitting  he 

strode  ........  273 

25.  Paoli  on  the  wall  .......  283 

26.  Full  on  the  forehead  of  the  Prince  of  Kai  fell  the 

bolt 305 

27.  Ine  Tanaka  ........  307 

28.  “In  Heaven’s  name,  what  means  this?  Nirado 

Shiro  !” 321 

29.  Ready  for  the  foe 335 

30.  The  stranger  turned  and  disappeared  within  the 

gate 337 

31.  He  looked  down  into  the  eyes  of  Ine  Tanaka  . 369 

32.  Discharging  fire-arrows  upon  the  camp  of  Nabe- 

shima  ........  379 

33.  “ Ho,  men  of  Kai,  we  are  saved  !”  . . .401 

34.  She  swung  the  lantern  above  her  head  . . 417 

35.  Paoli,  reeling  in  his  saddle,  fell  heavily  to  the 

earth 433 

36.  After  the  last  conflict  ....  . 445 

37.  “Who  are  you  ?”  he  calls  out  wildly  . . . 465 


INTRODUCTION. 


IXTEEN  years  from  the  time 
that  Ignatius  Loyola  and  his 
associates  founded  the  Society 
of  Jesus,  Francis  Xavier,  one 
of  the  most  illustrious  members 
of  the  new  brotherhood,  organ- 
ized the  first  Christian  church 
in  Japan.  During  the  next 
twenty  years,  the  number  of 
converts  to  the  foreign  faith, 
through  special  circumstances  furthering  the  work  of 
propagandism,  increased  to  upwards  of  thirty  thousand  ; 
and,  at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  according  to 
the  official  reports  of  the  missionaries,  there  were  six 
hundred  thousand  Japanese  Christians.  Another  score 
of  years,  and  this  number  had  dwindled  down  to  less 
than  half,  and  in  1637,  the  year  that  witnessed  the  begin- 
ning of  that  unhappy  struggle,  the  story  of  which  is  to  be 
told  in  these  pages,  there  could  not  have  been  more  than 
sixty  thousand  both  secret  and  openly  avowed  believers. 
What  were  the  causes  of  the  marvellous  success  which 

[17] 


i8 


Introduction. 


attended  the  labors  of  the  Jesuit  missionaries  in  Japan? 
What  were  the  causes  of  the  astonishingly  rapid  decline 
and  the  final  extirpation  of  the  native  church  ? 

When  Xavier  landed  in  Japan,  the  time  was  ripe  for  a 
religious  revolution.  For  centuries  civil  war,  anarchy 
and  misrule  had  oppressed  the  country,  and  the  people 
groaned  beneath  a burden  of  ever  increasing  misery.  In 
their  utter  wretchedness,  they  looked  to  Buddhism  for 
consolation,  but  an  ignorant  and  morally  depraved  priest- 
hood had  neither  ear  to  listen  to  nor  heart  to  pity  the  cry 
of  distress  that  rose  to  them  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  land.  The  Jesuit  missionary  came  ; and 
his  holy  earnestness,  his  thrilling  story  of  the  sacrifice  of 
the  cross,  and  his  doctrine  of  patient  endurance  in  this 
life  and  immediate  entrance  after  death  into  the  joys  of 
an  eternal  paradise,  melted  the  hearts  of  thousands  and 
won  them  to  his  faith.  Nor  did  the  convert,  in  his 
change  of  religion,  find  the  transition  a difficult  one. 
The  church  of  the  Christians,  he  discovered,  was  but 
little  different  from  the  temple  of  the  Buddhists,  and, 
with  proper  sprinkling  and  blessing,  the  images,  pictures, 
bells,  beads,  incense,  candles  and  vestments  of  his  old 
faith  could  serve  the  purposes  of  the  new. 

Another  powerful  motive  for  the  friendly  reception  of 
the  foreigner’s  religion — a motive  operating  mainly 
among  the  ruling  class — is  to  be  found  in  the  material 
interests  which  were  thus  promoted.  The  Japanese 
princes  were  quick  to  perceive  the  intimate  relation  that 
existed  between  commerce  and  Christianity,  and  that  to 
welcome  the  missionary  was  to  attract  the  merchant.  It 
was  this,  which,  more  than  anything  else,  brought  about 
the  wonderful  success  that  attended  the  labors  of  the 
Jesuits.  The  native  princes,  vying  with  one  another  for 
the  emoluments  of  the  Portuguese  trade,  became  Chris- 


Introduction. 


19 


tians  themselves  and  compelled  their  subjects  to  follow 
their  example.  Christianity  became  popular  and  was 
eagerly  embraced  by  thousands  ignorant  of  its  doctrines 
and  indifferent  to  the  purity  of  life  it  enjoins.  Thousands, 
too,  forced  to  submit  to  its  baptism,  at  heart  hated  it, 
and  were  little  less  than  an  army  of  spies  and  conspira- 
tors in  the  secret  service  of  the  heathen  party. 

Thus  it  happened  that  one  of  the  principal  causes  con- 
tributing to  the  spread  of  Christianity  in  Japan,  was,  at 
the  same  time,  a cause  of  its  approaching  decline  and 
ultimate  overthrow.  The  church  became  powerful  ; and 
with  power  came  pride  and  arrogance.  The  humble 
missionary  grew  into  the  haughty  prelate,  assuming  for 
himself  the  authority  and  regalia  of  a nobleman.  Ex- 
pediency, conciliation,  respect  for  rulers  not  Christian, 
and  tenderness  toward  harmless  manners  and  customs 
dear  to  the  hearts  of  the  Japanese  people,  were  forgotten 
when  once  the  triumph  of  the  church  seemed  to  be 
assured.  A strict  ecclesiastical  espionage  was  established 
over  the  native  converts,  and  the  supremacy  of  the 
church  over  the  government  and  the  duty  of  the  Chris- 
tians to  acknowledge  an  unquestioning  allegiance  to  the 
Pope  were  clearly  taught.  A persecution  of  the  Buddhists, 
as  cruel  and  unprovoked  as  it  was  impolitic,  was  begun 
and  carried  on  for  the  space  of  twenty  years.  The  priests 
were  either  banished  or  put  to  death,  the  idols  and 
temples  were  destroyed,  and  the  believers  were  compelled 
to  choose  between  exile  and  submission  to  Christian 
baptism.  The  Jesuit  historian,  Charlevoix,  extols  the 
zeal  of  the  Christian  princes,  who,  in  obedience  to  the 
solicitations  of  Spanish  and  Portuguese  priests,  conducted 
this  crusade  against  the  ancient  religion.  “In  the  year 
1577,”  he  says,  “the  lord  of  Amakusa  issued  a proclama- 
tion, by  which  his  subjects  were  required  either  to  turn 


20 


Introduction. 


Christians  or  to  leave  the  country  the  very  next  day. 
They  almost  all  submitted  and  received  baptism,  so  that 
in  a short  time  there  were  more  than  twenty  churches  in 
his  domain.”  Again,  in  speaking  of  the  Prince  of  Takat- 
suki,  the  same  writer  tells  us  how  he  “labored  with  a 
zeal  truly  apostolic  to  extirpate  the  idolators  out  of  his 
state.”  Thus  were  sown  by  the  missionaries  and  their 
followers  the  seeds  of  bitterness,  jealousy  and  revenge 
that  were  to  grow  up  and  to  ripen  into  a harvest  of 
ferocious  hatred  and  merciless  persecution  against  them- 
selves. 

In  1587  Hideyoshi,  successor  in  the  Shogunate  to 
Nobunagathe  enemy  of  the  Buddhists  and  the  patron  of 
Christianity,  issued  an  edict  commanding  all  foreign 
priests  to  leave  Japan  within  twenty  days.  The  Jesuit 
missionaries,  to  the  number  of  sixty-five,  assembled  at 
Hirado,  but  after  a consultation  together,  they  decided 
to  remain  in  the  country,  and,  at  the  invitation  of  the 
Christian  princes,  they  distributed  themselves  through- 
out their  dominions.  Even  then,  had  the  missionaries 
been  conciliatory  and  careful  not  to  give  further  offense, 
the  storm  of  persecution,  the  first  warning  blast  of  which 
had  already  fallen  upon  the  church,  might  have  been 
averted.  But  their  zeal  for  what  they,  doubtless,  con- 
scientiously conceived  to  be  their  duty,  outweighed  their 
discretion;  and,  though  they  were  permitted  for  a time 
to  go  unmolested  save  by  repeated  injunctions  to  quit 
the  country,  they  at  last  paid  the  price  of  their  temerity. 
February  5,  1597,  just  ten  years  after  the  promulgation  of 
Ilideyoshi’s  edict  of  expulsion,  three  Portuguese  Jesuits, 
six  Spanish  Franciscans,  and  seventeen  native  Christians 
were  crucified  at  Nagasaki.  The  martyrs  met  their  fate 
steadfastly  and  joyfully.  In  1862  they  were  canonized  by 
Pope  Pius  IX. 


Introduction. 


21 


The  government  now  became  alarmed  for  the  nation’s 
safety.  The  story  is  told  how  a Spanish  sea-captain  was 
showing  some  Japanese  officials  a map  of  the  Spanish 
dominions,  and  being  asked  by  what  method  his  king  had 
acquired  such  enormous  possessions,  answered  that  the 
usual  way  was  first  to  send  out  missionaries  to  convert  the 
people  to  Christianity,  then  to  send  soldiers  to  protect  the 
priests  and  their  converts,  and  with  these  to  subdue  the 
country.  The  heathen  princes,  remembering  the  sort  of 
instruction  in  statecraft,  which  their  Christian  countrymen 
were  receiving  from  their  foreign  teachers,  and  hearing 
the  inflammatory  denunciations  of  the  government,  with 
which  the  Jesuit  missionaries  spiced  their  spiritual  minis- 
trations to  their  converts,  had  sufficient  cause  for  appre- 
hensions without  the  revelations  which  the  Spanish  cap- 
tain made  ; and  it  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  it  was  not 
opposition  to  Christianity  as  a religion  but  as  a cloak  for 
political  conquest  which  led  Hideyoshi  and  his  successors 
first  to  check  and  then  to  extirpate  it. 

It  was  not,  however,  until  1614  that  the  threatened 
storm  broke  with  all  its  long  pent  up  fury  upon  the  heads 
of  the  devoted  adherents  of  the  new  religion.  In  that 
year  Iyeyasu  Tokugawa,  first  Shogun  of  his  family,  issued 
his  famous  edict  which  declared  Christianity  to  be  an  evil 
calling  for  extirpation  from  the  soil  of  Japan.* 

The  persecution  that  followed  was  appalling.  The 
government,  through  its  fear  for  the  independence  of  the 
country,  was  maddened  into  wanton  cruelty  ; the  Budd- 
hists were  eager  to  revenge  the  persecution  the  Christians 
had  inflicted  upon  them  ; and  the  lawless  portion  of 
society  hailed  with  savage  delight  this  opportunity  to 

* For  quotation  from  this  celebrated  proclamation,  see  page  fac- 
ing preface. 


22 


Introduction. 


revel  in  outrage  and  slaughter.  The  large  number  of 
persons  who  had  become  Christians,  either  from  policy 
or  by  compulsion,  had  already  abandoned  the  church  ; 
and,  of  those  that  remained,  few  renounced  their  faith. 
Thousands  fled  to  Formosa,  China,  and  the  Philippines  ; 
thousands  more  died  upon  the  cross,  were  burned  at  the 
stake,  beheaded,  or  buried  alive.  Never  in  the  history 
of  Christian  martyrdom  have  greater  constancy,  more 
unflinching  courage,  and  more  joyful  and  triumphant 
faith  been  displayed  than  that  witnesssed  during  the  first 
half  of  the  seventeenth  century  upon  the  execution 
grounds  of  Japan. 

Nor  had  the  missionaries  taught  their  converts  a doc- 
trine, from  an  application  of  the  consequences  of  which 
to  their  own  lives,  they  themselves  shrank.  As  they  had 
instructed  the  native  believers  to  live  a life  of  obedience 
to  the  church,  so,  in  the  hour  of  trial  and  suffering,  they 
taught  them  by  example  how  to  endure  and  how  to  die 
for  her  glory.  In  various  disguises  and  at  the  peril  of 
their  lives,  they  lived  among  their  suffering  Japanese 
brethren,  exhorting  them  to  endure  with  uncomplaining 
patience  and  gladness  the  persecution  of  their  foes.  He 
most  gravely  errs  who  permits  his  prejudice  to  withhold 
the  tribute  of  praise  and  admiration  which  the  Jesuit 
missionaries,  laboring  in  the  Japan  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  so  richly  deserve.  Despite  their  bigotry,  their 
intolerance,  their  political  scheming  and  intriguing,  the 
deathless  devotion,  which  they  manifested  toward  their 
church  and  their  converts,  may  well  claim  our  profound- 
est  reverence. 

The  persecution,  which  Iyeyasu’s  edict  had  begun,  was 
continued  by  his  son  and  by  his  grandson,  Ilidetada  and 
lyemitsu.  In  1621  Japanese  subjects  were  forbidden  to 
leave  the  country,  and  three  years  later  Japan  was  closed 


Introduction. 


23 


against  all  foreigners,  with  the  exception  of  the  Chinese 
and  the  Dutch.  Iyemitsu,  furthermore,  ordered  the  de- 
struction of  all  Japanese  ships,  and  thereafter  only  small 
junks  were  allowed  to  be  built.  Having  thus  taken  every 
precaution  that  his  countrymen  should  no  longer  come 
in  contact  with  the  forbidden  nations,  the  young  Shogun 
turned  his  attention  to  the  extermination  of  the  native 
Christian  church  ; and  it  was  in  the  fourteenth  year  of 
his  rule  that  the  events  narrated  in  the  following  pages 
took  place. 


PAOLI; 

THE  LAST  OF  THE  MISSIONARIES. 


BOOK  FIRST. 

TWO  MEN  OF  DESTINY. 

I. 

CAPTAIN  VAN  NEIST’S  PASSENGERS. 

WARD  the  close  of  a warm 
September  day  in  the  year 
1637,  a large  Dutch  mer- 
chantman, the  Spuyten  Duy- 
vil,  Jansen  Van  Neist,  mas- 
ter, shook  out  her  sails  to 
the  wind,  and  gliding  slowly 
out  of  the  harbor  of  Manila, 
turned  her  prow  northward 
toward  the  island-empire  of  Japan.  Nearly  a year  had 
passed  by  since  the  good  ship  had  sailed  from  Amster- 
dam laden  with  a cargo  of  merchandise  for  the  factory 
of  the  Dutch  East  India  Company  at  Hirado  and  a pri- 

[25] 


26 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


vate  trading  station  at  Nagasaki  ; but  storms  and  calms 
had  conspired  together,  it  had  seemed,  to  oppose  her 
progress,  until  her  hot-tempered  captain  had  sworn  that 
of  the  many  voyages  of  his  twenty-five  years  of  sea- 
faring life,  this  one  had  been  the  most  unsatisfactory 
and  annoying.  As  the  voyage  dragged  its  wearisome 
course  along,  this  observation  of  Captain  Van  Neist’s, 
uttered  with  daily  increasing  vehemence,  gradually  took 
the  place  of  his  ordinary  morning  greeting  to  the  sole 
European  passenger  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil.  This 
passenger,  Marmion  Beaumont,  a young  Englishman, 
had  come  aboard  at  Amsterdam  as  the  representative  of 
a company  of  London  merchants  who,  from  1614  to  1624, 
had  conducted  a factory  at  Hirado  on  the  west  coast  of 
the  island  of  Kiushiu,  and  who  now  was  sending  an 
agent  to  collect,  if  possible,  some  outstanding  debts  from 
the  Japanese  traders. 

In  addition  to  Beaumont  there  were  two  other  passen- 
gers aboard,  bound  for  Japan.  While  the  Spuyten  Duyvil 
lay  in  the  harbor  of  Manila,  where  she  had  put  in  for 
repairs,  Van  Neist  and  the  Englishman,  whom  the  asso- 
ciations of  the  long  voyage  had  made  fast  friends,  formed 
the  acquaintance  of  a young  Japanese  named  Nirado 
Shiro,  who  had  come  to  the  Philippines  from  his  native 
land,  in  the  company  of  a missionary  some  ten  years 
before.  He  had  spent  these  years  in  study  at  the  Jesuit 
college  in  Manila,  and  spoke  Spanish  very  fluently. 
Shiro  asked  passage  to  Nagasaki  for  himself  and  a friend 
who  was  wishing  to  return  to  Japan.  Van  Neist  cheer- 
fully consented  to  take  them,  and  the  following  evening 
the  young  Japanese  and  his  friend,  who  gave  his  name  as 
Anjiro,  came  aboard,  both  dressed  in  the  fashion  peculiar 
to  their  country. 

At  first  but  little  attention  was  paid  to  Anjiro,  who 


Pa  oil  ; the  Post  of  the  Missionaries. 


2 7 


seemed  to  be  a silent  and  reserved  sort  of  a person,  never 
speaking  except  to  answer  some  question  addressed  to 
him,  and  then  always,  if  possible,  in  monosyllables  and 
with  a decided  Japanese  accent.  Whenever  any  com- 
munication of  difficult  meaning  or  of  great  length  was 
made,  Anjiro  would  call  upon  his  friend  to  interpret  for 
him,  his  knowledge  of  Spanish  extending,  it  seemed,  no 
further  than  the  understanding  of  easy  sentences  and 
common-place  remarks.  He  was  tall  and  well  built; 
Van  Neist  on  one  occasion  remarking  to  Shiro,  who  was 
extremely  slight  of  figure,  that  his  friend  Anjiro  was  the 
largest  and  strongest  looking  Japanese  he  had  ever  seen  ; 
but  Shiro  assured  him  that  much  heavier  built  and  taller 
men  were  quite  common  in  the  extreme  south  of  his 
country. 

Among  the  crew  of  the  Spuyten  Duyvil , Anjiro  soon 
came  to  be  regarded  with  feelings  of  mingled  respect 
and  fear.  One  sailor  declared  that  he  Lelieved  that  the 
big  Japanese,  as  Anjiro  was  called  by  the  seamen,  was 
either  a snake-charmer  or  a sorcerer.  Another  affirmed 
that  he  had  seen  him  one  night  standing  in  the  bow  of 
the  ship  swinging  his  arms  and  uttering  strange  ejacula- 
tions, and  that,  in  less  than  an  hour  afterwards  the  wind 
was  blowing  a heavy  gale.  He  was  convinced  that  he 
was  a magician.  A third  believed  that  he  had  dealings 
with  the  devil,  and  would  not  be  surprised  to  find  that 
some  misfortune  befell  everything  on  which  his  evil  eye 
had  looked. 

One  evening,  about  a week  after  the  Spuyten  Duyvil 
had  left  the  Philippines,  Anjiro  was  standing  alone  in  the 
bow  of  the  vessel,  above  where  the  rushing  prow  fur- 
rowed the  calm  surface  of  the  sea  into  two  diverging 
lines  of  foam.  There  was,  indeed,  something  about  this 
strangely  silent  man  that  could  not  fail  to  arrest  the 


28  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


attention  of  the  beholder.  Apparently  about  forty-five 
years  of  age,  his  well-knit  frame  and  vigorous  constitu- 
tion betokened  perfect  health.  His  noble  and  command 
ing  figure,  military  bearing,  and  thoroughly  intellectual 
countenance  would  have  made  him  conspicuous  any- 
where. But  more  remarkable  than  all  else  were  his 
eyes.  The  square  chin  and  firmly  set  mouth  might  be- 
token a strong  will  ; the  finely-chiseled  features  and  high, 
full  forehead,  intellectual  power  ; but  no  one  could  catch 
a glance  from  those  wonderful  eyes,  that  shone  forth  from 
his  swarthy  countenance  like  wells  of  living  fire,  without 
feeling  conscious  that  he  stood  in  the  presence  of  a man 
possessing  qualities  that  raised  him  above  even  the  more 
gifted  of  his  fellow-men.  On  the  evening  we  have  just 
spoken  of,  as  he  stood  in  his  chosen  place  for  solitary 
meditation,  his  gaze  was  fixed  straight  forward  on  the 
distant  horizon  as  if  he  would  call  up  a vision  of  the 
shores  that  lay  still  far  away  beyond.  He  had  cast  off  his 
hat,  and  with  his  head  thrown  slightly  back,  he  stood  as 
motionless  as  a statue,  only  the  lines  of  his  face  revealing 
that  he  was  thrilled  by  some  transporting  joy  or  terrible 
grief.  Then,  as  he  stood  thus,  apparently  oblivious  to  all 
his  surroundings,  his  frame  seemed  to  tremble  with  the 
deep  emotions  that  surged  through  his  soul,  his  features 
grew  rigid,  his  eyes  slowly  closed,  his  hands  stole  quietly 
to  his  breast  and  were  clasped  together  as  if  in  prayer, 
the  lips  moved  and  then  closed  tightly,  his  face  grew  ashy 
pale,  and  for  a moment  the  strange  being  seemed  to  have 
fallen  into  a trance.  But  it  was  only  for  a moment. 
The  color  rushed  back  to  his  face,  the  lips  parted,  and  a 
fluttering  sigh  broke  from  them,  the  hands  unclasped 
and  dropped  again  to  his  side,  his  features  relaxed,  and 
his  chin  sank  upon  his  breast,  his  eyes  remaining  closed. 

The  sound  of  footsteps  behind  him  roused  Anjiro  from 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


29 


the  reverie  into  which  lie  had  fallen  lie  raised  his  head, 
and  with  a mighty  yet  imperceptible  struggle  crushed 
down  all  evidences  of  his  recent  display  of  emotion.  It 
was  Shiro  who  was  approaching,  and  behind  him,  at 
some  distance,  Anjiro  saw  Beaumont  and  Van  Neist. 
The  strangely  luminous  eyes  of  the  elder  man  met  those 
of  Shiro,  and  with  a voice  steady  enough,  but  still  evincing 
the  difficulty  with  which  its  owner  kept  it  under  control, 
he  said  : 

“ I have  seen  it  again,  Shiro.  The  days  of  visions  are 
still  upon  the  earth.  I saw  again  the  red  horse  of  war, 
his  mane  clotted  with  gouts  of  carnage  ; I heard  the  roar 
of  battle,  the  hoarse  shout  of  the  warrior,  the  shriek  of 
the  dying.  I beheld  the  midnight  skies  flame  red  with 
the  burning  temples  of  the  accursed  Buddha  ; I looked, 
and  before  me  armed  bands  of  men  contended  for  the 
mastery  ; I saw  them  locked  together  in  the  death 
grapple  ; my  heart  stood  still  as  they  reeled  to  and  fro  in 
the  mad  fury  of  the  fight,  covering  the  green  earth 
beneath  them  with  their  slain.  At  last  one  army  broke 
and  fled  away  into  the  darkness  ; I saw  the  victors  as 
they  followed  after  in  swift  pursuit,  and  as  their  conquer- 
ing banners  swept  past  me,  lo  ! I beheld  emblazoned 
thereon  the  figure  of  our  Christ  and  his  cross,  and  sweeter 
than  angels’  song,  was  borne  to  my  ears  the  ‘ Yaso-Maria,'* 
the  battle  cry  of  the  Christians — the  paean  of  triumph. 
But  hush  ! they  who  have  no  part  with  us  are  at  hand  !’’ 


Jesus  and  Mary. 


30  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


II. 

NIRADO  SHIRO  MAKES  A STARTLING  DECLARATION. 

It  was  Van  Neist  and  the  young  Englishman  who  were 
now  coming  up  to  the  place  where  the  two  friends  were 
standing.  Turning  around,  Shiro  joined  in  conversation 
with  them,  but  Anjiro  relapsed  into  his  accustomed 
silence,  replying  only  in  monosyllables  to  the  remarks 
that  Beaumont  addressed  to  him. 

The  conversation  turned  finally  upon  religious  subjects 
and  particularly  the  persecution  which  the  Japanese 
Christians  were  then  suffering.  Beaumont  was  out- 
spoken in  his  denunciation  of  the  barbaric  character  of 
a government  that  was  visiting  its  unoffending  subjects 
with  such  wanton  destruction  for  their  religious  belief. 

“Mynheer  Beaumont,’’ interposed  the  captain,  “you 
are  not  to  forget  that  if  religious  persecution  be  taken  as 
a mark  of  barbarism,  our  Western  civilization  would 
scarcely  be  worthy  of  American  savages.  Had  the 
missionaries  who  went  to  Japan  been  more  the  peace- 
bringing servants  of  Christ  and  less  the  intriguing 
emissaries  of  a foreign  power,  the  result,  I doubt  not, 
would  have  been  different.” 

“ True,  perhaps,”  responded  Beaumont,  who  under- 
stood what  Van  Neist’s  allusion  to  a foreign  power  meant, 
/“  yet  despite  their  bondage  to  an  ecclesiastical  system,  the 
devotion  of  these  men  to  their  converts  that  has  led  them 
to  remain  with  them  at  the  peril  of  their  lives,  or,  having 
left  the  country,  secretly  to  return,  and  with  their  native 
brethren  to  suffer  untold  persecutions  and  death,  is  to  me 
one  of  the  most  touching  pictures  of  Christian  loyalty 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries . 


that  the  history  of  the  church  affords  ; and  were  it  in  my 
power  to  aid  such  zeal  and  constancy  I should  consider 
myself  thrice  happy  in  the  opportunity.”/ 

Beaumont  spoke  with  impassioned  earnestness,  his  fine 
eyes  glowing  with  fervid  enthusiasm.  Van  Neist  scanned 
his  face  closely  and  then  said  : “ I caution  you,  Mynheer, 

that  you  be  more  reserved  in  expressing  your  views  after 
we  reach  Japan.  I am  only  a plain,  unlearned  man,  but 
twenty-five  years  of  voyaging  through  all  seas,  and  to 
almost  every  land,  has  taught  me  some  things  ; and 
especially  have  I learned  the  imprudence  of  uttering 
one’s  thoughts  too  freely  ; and  should  the  opportunity  to 
help  a Catholic  missionary,  which  you  seem  to  crave,  come 
to  you,  I trust  you  will  not  attempt  to  do  it  aboard  the 
Spuyten  Duyvil,  seeing  that  we  are  bound  by  the  most 
solemn  promises  to  the  Japanese  government  to  grant 
passage  or  to  render  assistance  to  no  foreign  priest.  I 
would  not  interfere  with  your  liberty,  nor  do  even  a Jesuit 
wrong,  yet  on  behalf  of  my  employers  and  their  interests 
in  Japan  I must  make  this  request.” 

Beaumont  was  rebuked  by  the  words  of  the  captain 
and  he  felt  that  he  had  allowed  his  enthusiasm  to  carry 
him  beyond  the  bounds  of  prudence. 

“ Believe  me,  Captain  Van  Neist,”  he  said,  humbly, 
“my  zeal  outran  my  discretion,  as  you  have  said  ; but  I 
assure  you  I shall  do  nothing  that  will  compromise  my 
friends.” 

“ I shall  accept  your  word  for  it.” 

“You  may  with  safety.  I shall  endeavor  to  follow 
your  advice,  and  be  more  cautious  hereafter.” 

“ There  is  need  of  it,  I do  assure  you,  my  young  friend. 
You  will  find  the  Japanese  officials  jealous  of  all  foreign- 
ers ; a word  will  arouse  their  most  bitter  prejudices,  and 


32  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 

that  would  be  fatal  to  the  interests  which  has  brought 
you  to  the  East.” 

The  captain  of  the  Spuyten  Duyvit  now  left  the  little 
group  to  give  some  instructions  to  his  officers  ; and 
Beaumont,  as  he  watched  the  retreating  figure  of  the  kind- 
hearted  fellow,  felt  that  he  had  offended  him.  Shiro 
spoke,  and  the  young  Englishman  could  not  fail  to  note 
the  sarcasm  in  his  voice  : 

“ Our  worthy  captain,  I would  judge,  then,  is  not  a 
friend  to  the  suffering  church  of  my  country.” 

“You  misunderstand  him,  I think,”  answered  Beau- 
mont, quick  to  take  up  the  championship  of  his  friend. 
“ Van  Neist  is  an  honest,  well-meaning  man  ; he  has  just 
said  that  he  would  not  interfere  with  any  one’s  liberty, 
or  wrong  even  a Jesuit.” 

“ I heard  him.  If  he  spoke  the  truth  he  is  one  among 
a thousand  of  his  countrymen.” 

“ Why,”  asked  Beaumont,  in  surprise — “ why  do  you  say 
that  ? What  have  the  Dutch  done  that  you  should  speak 
thus  ? Have  they  wronged  your  people  ?” 

The  other  laughed  bitterly. 

“Ask  any  Japanese  Christian  what  they  have  not  done 
to  ruin  the  cause  of  Christianity  in  Japan.  Sordidly 
selfish  themselves,  they  looked  with  jealous  hatred 
upon  the  favor  formerly  shown  by  the  Japanese 
princes  to  the  Portuguese.  Like  vipers,  they  wormed 
themselves  into  favor  with  a few  disaffected  nobles.  Into 
the  ears  of  these  they  poured  their  libelous  poison  about 
the  Portuguese  traders,  and  the  religion  of  the  Portuguese 
priests.  When  the  Japanese  government  assumed  a 
hostile  attitude  toward  Christianity,  they  became  the 
spies  of  the  persecuting  power,  and  during  all  these 
years  of  trial  and  bloodshed  they  have  ever  arrayed  them- 
selves against  the  Christians.” 


STARTLING  DECLARATION. — See  Page  38. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  35 


“ Your  words  are  a revelation  to  me,  but  I am  certain 
that  whatever  kind  of  men  his  countrymen  in  Japan  may 
be,  you  will  find  no  enemy  in  Jansen  Van  Neist,  so  long 
as  you  do  not  undertake  to  deceive  him.” 

“It  would  be  a redeeming  feature  in  the  conduct  of 
the  Dutch  in  Japan,”  pursued  Shiro,  as  if  unconscious  of 
Beaumont’s  interruption,  “did  they  oppose  us  on  religious 
grounds,  were  they  teaching  the  Protestant  faith  of  their 
own  land  and  fighting  us  as  a corrupt  form  of  Chris- 
tianity, there  might  be  a show  of  reason  for  their 
hostility.  But  so  far  from  this  has  been  their  attitude 
toward  Christianity  that  they  emphatically  deny  any 
connection  with  it.  Ask  one  of  them  in  Hirado  or 
Nagasaki  if  he  is  a Christian  and  he  will  answer,  ‘ No,  I 
am  a Dutchman.’  ” 

“ What  is  their  object  in  all  this  ?” 

“ Merely  to  gain  the  paltry  foreign  trade  of  the  country. 
And  they  are  succeeding.  The  intercourse  of  Japan 
with  Europe  is  fast  falling  into  their  hands.  All  other 
nations  are  finding  it  too  insignificant  or  loaded  with  too 
many  humiliating  conditions  to  care  to  maintain  it. 
They  will  not  stoop  to  petty  truckling,  or  prostitute 
their  honor  to  play  the  hireling  spy  against  fellow-Christ- 
ians.  The  Dutch,  on  the  other  hand,  are  content  to 
submit  to  the  most  unjust  exactions  of  the  Japanese 
princes  ; the  scanty  profits  of  the  trade  seem  to  satisfy 
them,  and  I feel  assured  that  before  long  they  will  be  the 
only  Europeans  allowed  to  come  to  Japan.” 

“ But  our  friend,  Senor  Beaumont,  is  not  one  of  them,” 
said  Anjiro,  speaking  now  for  the  first  time,  and  with 
much  greater  fluency  than  he  had  ever  hitherto  displayed 
in  the  presence  of  strangers  ; “we  have  his  word  that  he 
bears  no  ill  will  to  either  the  Catholic  missionary  or  his 
suffering  converts.  Is  it  not  so,  Senor  Beaumont  ?’ 


36  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries , 


“ Assuredly,”  replied  the  young  Englishman,  conceal- 
ing, as  best  he  could,  his  astonishment  at  the  readiness 
with  which  Anjiro  was  able  to  speak  Spanish. 

“And  did  not  Senor  say  that  if  it  was  ever  his 
opportunity  to  render  assistance  it  would  be  gladly 
done  ?” 

Beaumont  remembered  the  caution  of  Van  Neist  and 
resolved  to  be  discreet.  Anjiro  preceived  his  hesitation, 
and  with  a smile  continued  : 

“ Senor  need  not  compromise  himself.  We  heard  the 
warning  he  received  a short  time  ago.  We  believe  we 
can  trust  you.  And  since,  for  the  sake  of  others,  you 
have  promised  to  be  careful  hereafter  not  to  allow  your- 
self to  speak  too  freely  what  you  feel,  we  are  confident 
that  you  will  also  be  careful,  for  our  sakes,  not  to  implicate 
us,  as  it  might  hereafter  be  possible  for  you  to  do.” 

“You  may  depend  that  I shall  do  nothing  that  will 
either  injure  you  or  bring  harm  to  your  cause.” 

“ I felt  from  the  first  time  I met  you  in  Manila,”  broke 
:n  Shiro,  “ that  I could  trust  you  ; yet  I somehow  feel  that 
hereafter  you  will  be  on  the  side  of  my  foes.  I have  had 
dreams  of  the  struggle  to  come,  and  in  the  ranks  of  the 
enemy  I have  seen  your  face  looking  out  upon  me,  but  it 
was  not  full  of  savage  hatred  like  those  of  the  others 
about  you,  and  I fancied  that  at  heart  you  were  not  my 
enemy.” 

“Your  words  are  lost  upon  me,”  replied  Beaumont, 
“for  I do  not  understand  them.  That  I wish  to  be  your 
friend  you  may  be  assured  ; but  how  I can  ever  be  found 
in  the  ranks  of  your  enemies  I cannot  conceive.” 

“ Nor  I either.  But  mark  me,  it  shall  be  so.” 
“Impossible  ! But  your  enemies — who  are  they?” 
Shiro  was  silent  for  a moment.  Beaumont  fancied 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  37 


that  he  had  caught  a glimpse  of  an  interchange  of  glances 
between  his  two  companions  and  a nod  of  approval  from 
the  elder  man.  Then  Shiro  spoke  : 

“Senor  Beaumont,  there  is  a limit,  is  there  not,  beyond 
which  passive  submission  to  wrong  becomes  a sin  ? The 
most  timid  beast  of  the  forest  can  by  wanton  cruelty  be 
goaded  to  such  desperation  that  it  will  at  length  turn 
with  savage  fury,  and,  if  possible,  destroy  its  tormentors. 
We  believe  that  the  hour  has  come  when  the  long-suffer- 
ing church  of  Christ  in  Japan  should  take  up  arms  in  self- 
defence.  It  is  now  more  than  fifty  years  since  the  govern- 
ment began  to  issue  its  edicts  against  our  religion.  From 
that  hour  until  now  the  soil  of  nearly  every  province  in 
central  and  southern  Japan  has  been  reddened  with  the 
blood  of  Christian  martyrs.” 

“ The  history  is  indeed  a terrible  one.  But  will  not  a 
declaration  of  war  bring  on  still  more  fearful  calamities  ?” 

“ It  cannot ; it  cannot.  The  heathen  princes  are  de- 
termined to  stamp  out  Christianity  in  Japan.  It  is  either 
a question  of  renouncing  our  faith  or  of  being  extermi- 
nated. The  former  none  of  us  will  do,  and  we  may  as  well 
die  in  honorable  battle  as  be  destroyed  by  persecution. 
But  such  shall  not  be  our  fate.  We  shall  be  successful. 
We  are  still  powerful  throughout  Kiushiu.  In  my  prov- 
ince an  army  of  ten  thousand  men  can  be  raised  in  a day. 
With  a victory  or  two  on  our  side,  many  thousands  more 
throughout  the  nation,  who  are  Christans  at  heart,  but 
fear  the  consequences  of  an  open  profession,  would  join 
us,  and  the  government  would  be  compelled  to  yield  us 
freedom  of  worship.” 

Here  the  speaker  paused  and  looked  at  the  young 
Englishman  as  if  he  wished  him  to  express  his  opinion 
on  what  had  just  been  said.  Beaumont,  still  remember- 


38  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


ing  Van  Neist’s  warning,  was  resolved  to  be  as  non-com- 
mittal as  possible. 

“ Unless  you  are  mistaken,”  he  said,  “ in  the  number  of 
your  adherents  and  their  readiness  to  join  promptly  in  the 
revolt,  something  might  be  done — ” 

Shiro  interrupted  him,  speaking  rapidly,  though 
quietly  : 

“ Something  has  been  done,  Senor  Beaumont.  A week 
ago  the  uprising  took  place  ; last  night  and  early  this 
morning  a sanguinary  battle  was  fought  ; even  at  this 
moment  the  broken  ranks  of  the  government  troops  are 
in  flight  before  the  banner  of  the  cross.” 

III. 

FURTHER  DISCLOSURES. 

Beaumont  heard  w'ith  wonder  enough  this  strange 
declaration.  He  looked  keenly  at  Shiro,  but  the  calm, 
composed  countenance  of  the  Japanese  youth  gave  no 
evidence  of  excitement.  He  stood  firmly  erect,  his  slight 
figure  raised  to  its  full  height,  his  expressive  and  finely 
molded  features  wreathed  with  the  faintest  smile,  as  he 
continued  : 

“You  are  surprised,  but  it  is  the  truth  I am  speaking 
to  you.  I tell  you  this  now  that,  when  in  a few  days  we 
reach  Nagasaki  and  you  hear  it  from  the  lips  of  others, 
you  may  remember  this,  and  believe  me  when  I say  that 
this  is  but  the  beginning  of  a struggle  that  will  end  in 
making  Japan  a Christian  nation.” 

Beaumont’s  voice  betrayed  the  incredulity  he  felt,  as 
he  responded  : 

“If  what  you  say  has  already  taken  place  proves  to  be 
the  truth,  I shall  feel  inclined  to  believe  anything  else 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


39 


you  may  affirm.  But  dreams,  remember,  are  often  mis- 
leading— ” 

“It  was  no  dream,”  broke  in  Shiro,  still  speaking 
rapidly  and  in  a low,  even  voice.  He  did  not  seem  to 
notice  Beaumont’s  incredulous  smile.  “ It  was  no  dream, 
Sefior,”  lie  repeated  ; “all  that  I have  told  you  of  was 
seen  in  an  hour  of  wakefulness,  in  broad  day,  and  aboard 
this  ship.  How  or  by  whom  is  not  mine  to  say.” 

“ You  certainly  astonish  me  ; this  insurrection — this 
war — who  is  to  be  your  leader  in  so  hazardous  an  under- 
taking ?” 

“I  am  commander-in-chief  of  the  insurgents  and  it  is 
the  will  of  Heaven  to  make  me  the  first  Christian  ruler  of 
our  Japan.”  Shiro  spoke  with  the  quietness  of  assured 
confidence,  no  trace  of  boastful  exultation  in  his  voice. 
The  Englishman’s  astonishment  found  expression  in  an 
exclamation  of  surprise.  “You  are  amazed  at  what  you 
hear,  Sefior  Beaumont,”  the  Japanese  youth  went  on, 
speaking  even  more  softly  and  deliberately  than  before  ; 
“and  you  no  doubt  think  me  a madman,  or,  at  best,  a 
most  hopelessly  visionary  fanatic,  and  it  may  do  no  good 
to  assure  you  that  I am  neither.  Why  should  it  be  thought 
incredible  that  God  in  these  latter  days  should  raise  up  a 
deliverer  for  His  people  ? Did  He  not  do  so  of  old  ? and 
is  the  arm  of  the  Lord  shortened  now  in  this,  the  hour  of 
the  affliction  of  His  people?  In  ancient  times  the  chosen 
vessel  of  the  Most  High  was  conscious  of  his  call  to  be- 
come the  liberator  of  the  down-trodden  and  suffering 
children  of  God.  He  announced  himself  as  such,  both 
to  those  he  was  to  save  and  to  those  he  was  to  destroy. 
Cannot  he  who  is  the  instrument  of  salvation  now  be  as 
conscious  of  the  fact  as  was  the  Lord’s  messenger  in 
former  times?  And  has  he  not  as  much  authority  as 
they  to  declare  his  mission  ?” 


40  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


He  paused  ; but  Beaumont  still  made  no  reply.  Anji- 
ro,  a little  removed  from  them,  was  intently  watching  the 
young  Englishman’s  face.  Shiro  continued  : 

“ You  perceive  that  I am  trusting  you  completely,  Senor 
Beaumont.  I am  sure  I can  do  this  with  perfect  safety." 

Again  he  paused  ; this  time  his  eyes  met  the  listener’s 
and  Beaumont  read  in  them  a mute  appeal  for  sympathy. 
Interested  and  fascinated  by  the  words  of  the  youth,  the 
Englishman  could  still  make  no  answer  to  Shiro’s  simple 
avowal  of  trust  in  him  further  than  a bow. 

“ Listen,  Senor.  I have  said  that  I am  the  leader  of 
the  insurgents.  It  is  even  so.  I have  been  raised  up  of 
Heaven  for  that  very  purpose.  Before  I was  born  was 
my  mission  announced.  On  the  face  of  a rock  jutting 
out  from  the  bald,  precipitous  side  of  a lofty  mountain 
overhanging  my  native  village  happened  a miracle. 
High  up  the  steep  cliff,  and  at  a point  apparently  inac- 
cessible to  human  hands,  the  villagers  saw  one  morning, 
as  the  rising  sun  flashed  his  first  beams  upon  the  smooth 
surface  of  the  rock,  the  promise  which  some  other  hand 
than  man’s  had  written  there  to  comfort  the  suffering 
people  of  God  with  the  assurance  of  coming  deliverance. 
‘After  a score  of  years  from  now,’  ran  the  inscription  on 
the  rock,  ‘a  great  man  shall  arise  among  the  Christians. 
He  shall  deliver  his  brethren  and  shall  rule  the  people  of 
his  nation.  Then  shall  many  stand  up  with  the  cross  on 
their  helmets,  giving  praises  to  God  for  the  glory  of 
Heaven  that  shall  in  that  day  fill  sea  and  river,  the 
mountains  and  the  desert.’ 

“A  few  months  afterwards  I was  born  in  that  village. 
During  the  interval  that  prophecy  on  the  mountain  side 
had  remained,  despite  the  most  strenuous  attempts  of  the 
government  officials  to  have  it  removed.  Liberal  rewards 
were  offered  to  any  one  who  would  scale  the  cliff  and 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


4i 


erase  the  writing.  In  vain.  Many  ventured,  but  no  one 
succeeded.  It  was  inaccessible  from  below,  nor  could  it 
be  reached  from  the  top  of  the  cliff.  What  the  finger  of 
fate  had  traced  upon  the  mountain  side  was  beyond  the 
reach  of  those  whose  discomfiture  it  foretold,  and  became 
to  the  persecuted  Christians  God’s  testament  in  stone 
that  the  hour  of  their  deliverance  was  at  hand. 

“The  night  in  which  I was  born  Heaven  again  spoke 
in  miracles  declaring  me  to  be  the  foretold  deliverer.  A 
mighty  earthquake  shook  the  village  and  surrounding 
country.  The  great  rock  upon  which  the  prophecy  was 
inscribed  was  torn  loose  from  the  mountain  side,  and, 
crashing  to  the  earth,  rolled  downward  through  the  val- 
ley. In  its  mad  course  it  struck  a Buddhist  temple  and 
also  the  office  of  the  government  tax-gatherer,  and  both 
buildings  were  crushed  level  with  the  earth.  No  other 
damage  was  done,  and  the  fallen  rock  came  to  rest  before 
the  door  of  my  father’s  house.  Thus  it  was  foretokened 
that  it  was  I who  was  to  deliver  the  church  from  the 
hand  of  her  oppressor,  overthrowing  heathenism  and 
destroying  a government  that  has  leagued  with  Satan  in 
the  work  of  persecution.” 

He  ceased  speaking,  and  again  turned  a questioning 
glance  toward  the  young  Englishman.  Anjiro  had  been 
closely  watching  the  effect  of  his  friend’s  words.  It  was 
evident  that  the  two  had  some  object  in  view  in  thus 
taking  a third  person  into  their  confidence.  Beaumont 
felt  assured  of  this,  and  hesitated  to  say  anything  that 
might  seem  to  encourage  further  disclosures.  If  they 
revealed  their  plans  to  him,  he  was  determined  they 
should  do  so  on  their  own  responsibility.  He  turned  his 
eyes  seaward,  and  appeared  to  be  watching  the  flight  of 
a flock  of  gulls  that  were  hovering  about  the  ship.  His 
thoughts,  however,  were  busy  pondering  the  words  of 


42  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Shiro.  He  had  met  men  before  who  were  enthusiasts 
and  almost  fanatics  whenever  the  subject  upon  which 
their  hopes  were  set,  and  around  which  their  thoughts 
and  labors  gathered,  was  touched  upon.  But  here  was  a 
man  whose  mind  was  filled  with  projects  the  most  vision- 
ary, and  the  sole  object  of  whose  life  seemed  to  be  the 
realization  of  a plan  that,  to  any  disinterested  person, 
must  needs  appear  in  the  highest  degree  impracticable. 

Yet  Shiro  displayed  none  of  the  fervor,  the  excitement, 
the  rashness  and  intemperance  of  language  that  charac- 
terize the  fanatic.  He  was  profoundly  earnest ; he  was, 
likewise,  simple  as  a child,  and  transparently  sincere. 
Evidently  he  conscientiously  believed  himself  to  be  a 
man  of  destiny,  the  instrument  of  God  in  working  out 
the  divine  will  in  the  history  of  his  people. 

He  waited  for  Beaumont  to  speak,  but  observing  his 
silence,  he  inquired  : 

“What  does  Sefior  think?  But  why  need  I ask? 
Senor  has  had  the  goodness  and  patience  to  listen  to  the 
tale  of  one  he  would  call  a visionary  fanatic.” 

Beaumont  felt  compelled  to  say  something. 

“You  have  applied  that  epithet  to  yourself,”  he  said, 
“ I have  not.” 

“ I have  ; and  you  have  also,  in  your  heart ! Be  frank 
with  me  ! Have  you  not  ?” 

The  Englishman  was  on  the  point  of  speaking,  when 
the  cabin  boy,  approaching  him,  said  : 

“Mynheer  Beaumont,  the  captain  wishes  to  see  you  at 
once  in  the  cabin.” 

“Tell  him  I shall  be  there  presently,”  responded  the 
Englishman,  and  then,  turning  to  Shiro,  he  said  in  part- 
ing : 

“ Believe  me,  I have  been  much  interested  in  what  you 
have  told  me.  I may  not  be  as  hopeful  of  the  result  as 


Petal i ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  43 


you  are  ; yet,  since  you  say  the  struggle  is  already  be- 
gun, it  would  seem  that  the  die  has  been  irretrievably 
cast,  and  it  now  remains  to  be  seen  whether  the  desper- 
ate valor  of  the  Christians  can  prevail  against  the  over- 
whelming number  of  their  foes.” 


IV. 

ANJIRO,  ALIAS  PAOLI. 

On  his  way  to  the  cabin  Beaumont  decided  to  acquaint 
Van  Neist  with  the  conversation  he  had  just  had  with 
Shiro.  Fie  determined  to  take  this  course  for  two  rea- 
sons. In  the  first  place,  he  thought  he  knew  the  captain 
well  enough  to  be  certain  that  it  would  be,  so  far  as 
Shiro  and  his  friend  were  concerned,  both  safe  and  ad- 
visable to  do  so  ; and  he  also  considered  it  his  duty  to 
inform  Van  Neist  of  the  character  of  his  passengers. 
Beaumont  was  aware  that  stringent  regulations  had  been 
imposed  by  the  Japanese  government  upon  the  Dutch 
merchants.  One  of  the  most  rigidly  enforced  of  these 
rules  was  the  prohibition  against  giving  any  Catholic 
priest  passage  to  Japan  or  aid  or  comfort  in  the  empire 
itself.  In  the  present  strained  condition  of  affairs,  if  it 
were  known  that  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  had  brought  home 
the  avowed  leader  of  an  insurrection,  the  consequences 
might  be  serious  enough. 

Beaumont  found  the  captain  pacing  the  floor  of  the 
little  cabin  in  a high  state  of  excitement.  Never  before 
had  he  seen  him  so  thoroughly  aroused.  No  sooner  had 
Beaumont  entered  than  Van  Neist  faced  the  young 
Englishman,  and,  looking  him  keenly  in  the  eye,  said,  in 
a voice  that  trembled  with  excitement : 


44 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ I sent  for  you,  Mynheer  Beaumont,  because  I need 
your  counsel.  But  first,  you  have  been  talking  with  the 
Japanese  passengers.  Did  you  learn  anything  from  them 
that  I ought  to  know  ?” 

Beaumont  was  startled  by  the  suddenness  of  the 
question.  Evidently,  whatever  it  was  that  was  disturbing 
the  captain’s  mind  had  some  connection  with  what  he 
had  just  decided  to  tell  him;  and  he  at  once  proceeded 
to  repeat  in  substance  the  conversation  which  he  had 
had  with  Shiro,  Van  Neist  listening  intently  to  all  he 
said.  This  information  seemed  to  increase  the  captain’s 
uneasiness.  For  a time  after  Beaumont  had  finished  his 
story  he  continued  to  pace  the  floor  in  great  agitation. 
Then  he  said  : 

“ What  you  tell  me,  Mynheer,  confirms  what  my  second 
officer  told  me  a few  minutes  ago,  and  makes  our  posi- 
tion all  the  more  alarming.  Something  must  be  done, 
and  that  at  once.  Those  two  fellows  must  go  in  irons, 
and  upon  our  arrival  in  Japan  they  must  be  handed  over 
to  the  authorities,  to  be  dealt  with  as  their  own  rulers 
may  see  fit.” 

Beaumont  could  not  repress  a shudder.  Once  in  the 
hands  of  the  government,  it  was  easy  to  surmise  their 
fate.  But  what  was  the  information  that  Van  Neist  had 
received  ? The  young  Englishman  almost  regretted 
that  he  had  acquainted  him  with  Shiro’s  story.  Had  he 
been  mistaken  in  his  estimation  of  the  captain’s  charac- 
ter ? Were  the  Dutch  all  that  Shiro  had  painted  them, 
and  was  Van  Neist  no  better  than  his  countrymen  in 
Japan?  Such  were  the  thoughts  that  coursed  through 
his  mind  as  he  watched  his  companion’s  excited  move- 
ments. At  length  the  captain  broke  the  silence  : 

“ Mynheer  Beaumont,  have  you  ever  heard  of  Francesco 
Paoli,  the  Jesuit  missionary  to  Japan  ?” 


45 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 

“ I have  not.” 

“Then  you  have  not  heard  of  one  whose  name  is  hated 
above  every  other  name  by  the  Japanese  government. 
Large  rewards  have  been  offered  for  his  capture,  dead  or 
alive,  but  thus  far  he  seems  to  have  led  a charmed  life. 
The  Christians,  too,  did  they  know  it,  ought  to  hate  him 
as  cordially  as  do  their  enemies.  He  has  been  responsi- 
ble for  all  the  persecutions  that  they  have  suffered  during 
the  past  twenty  years.  He  headed  a great  conspiracy  to 
call  in  the  assistance  of  Spain  and  Portugal  to  establish 
the  supremacy  of  the  Pope  in  Japan.  He  was  detected 
in  the  midst  of  his  plot,  and  was  banished  from  the 
country.  He  returned  in  disguise.  The  Japanese  au- 
thorities, hearing  of  this,  set  a price  upon  his  head,  and 
for  years  he  was  hunted  like  a wild  beast.  Twice  was 
it  thought  that  he  had  been  killed,  and  once  was  a for- 
eign priest  crucified  in  Nagasaki,  the  officials  believing 
him  to  be  Paoli.  Two  years  ago  he  went  to  Rome, 
where  he  was  appointed  Bishop  of  Japan.  Less  than 
half  an  hour  ago  I learned  that  the  self-same  Paoli  is 
now  returning  to  Nagasaki  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil." 

“Impossible!”  cried  Beaumont,  astonished  beyond 
measure.  “ There  must  be  some  mistake.  A stowaway 
could  not  have  kept  himself  concealed  so  long  as  this, 
and,  besides  myself,  the  only  passengers  aboard  are  Shiro 
and  his  friend  Anjiro.” 

“Anjiro!”  cried  Van  Neist.  “ A thousand  curses  upon 
him.  A thousand  curses  on  the  day  I consented  to  take 
him  aboard  ! Anjiro,  Mynheer,  is  none  other  than  the 
Jesuit,  Francesco  Paoli,  in  disguise  !” 

It  was  indeed  so.  Anjiro  was  the  Jesuit  missionary, 
Francesco  Paoli,  returning  to  his  field  of  labor  disguised 
as  a Japanese. 


46  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


V. 

THE  BISHOP  OF  JAPAN. 

For  the  space  of  twenty-five  years  previous  to  the  time 
of  the  opening  of  our  history,  this  same  Francesco  Paoli 
had  been  the  most  widely  known  missionary  laboring  in 
Japan.  An  Italian  by  birth,  but  reared  to  manhood  by 
his  maternal  uncle,  a resident  of  the  mountainous  dis- 
trict of  Covibia,  Portugal,  Paoli  had  taken  his  degree  in 
philosophy  at  Paris,  had  joined  the  Society  of  Jesus,  and 
in  1612  formed  one  of  a company  of  fifteen  Jesuit  mis- 
sionaries that  left  Lisbon  for  the  far-off  island-empire  of 
Japan.  None  of  his  brethren  had  become  so  much 
loved  or  so  deeply  hated  as  he.  From  Yezzo,  in  the  far 
north,  to  Riu  Kiu,  in  the  extreme  south  of  the  empire, 
every  island  and  every  province  became  in  turn  the 
scene  of  his  labors,  and  was  full  of  the  fruits  of  his 
quenchless  zeal*/  It  was  natural,  therefore,  when  the  sus- 
picions of  the  Japanese  government  were  aroused  against 
the  foreign  religion,  and  its  propagators  were  thought  to 
be  plotting  to  bring  the  country  under  the  authority  of 
the  Pope,  that  the  foremost  missionary  in  the  field 
should  be  subjected  to  a jealous  surveillance  and  have 
his  every  movement  noted  by  spies  appointed  for  that 
purpose.  In  the  midst  of  the  dangers  by  which  he  was 
now  encompassed,  Paoli  showed  himself  as  courageous 
as  he  was  devoted.  lie  conscienciously  believed  in  the 
universal  supremacy  of  Rome.  To  him  the  Pope  was  a 
king  of  kings,  before  whom  it  was  just  and  proper  and 
the  bounden  duty  of  all  the  rulers  of  the  world  to  bow 
in  submission.  With  unflinching  fidelity  to  this  belief, 
he  organized  an  association  among  the  Christian  princes 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  47 


to  labor  for  the  official  recognition  of  the  Church.  Fail- 
ing in  this,  they  sought  to  form  alliances  with  the  Catho- 
lic powers  of  Europe.  Paoli  was  seized  by  the  govern- 
ment, imprisoned  for  a time,  and  then  banished  from 
Japan,  with  strict  orders  never  to  return.  At  the  first 
opportunity  he  again  entered  the  country,  and,  in  vari- 
ous disguises  eluding  his  foes,  he  became  the  secret  leader 
of  the  Christians  during  the  successive  persecutions  that 
swept  over  the  Church,  threatening  her  very  existence. 

Finally  convinced  that  the  hour  had  come  to  seek 
foreign  help  for  the  liberation  of  the  faith  in  Japan, 
Paoli  returned  to  Europe  to  procure,  if  possible,  armed 
assistance  from  Portugal  or  Spain.  But  the  time  was 
inauspicious.  The  great  religious  struggle  known  as  the 
Thirty  Years’  War  was  raging,  and  all  Europe  was  either 
already  involved  or  waiting  in  expectancy.  At  such  a 
time  ships  and  soldiers  could  be  ill  spared,  even  for  so 
worthy  an  object  as  the  one  that  Paoli  represented. 
At  Rome,  however,  he  was  granted  an  audience  by  the 
Pope,  who  created  him  Bishop  of  Japan,  and  with  this 
slight  token  of  interest  in  the  cause  for  which  he  was 
laboring,  Paoli  returned  to  Manila,  where,  disguised  as  a 
Japanese  and  under  the  name  of  Anjiro,  he  took  passage 
with  Shiro  for  Nagasaki. 

His  detection  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  was  the  result 
of  no  accident.  Cruger,  the  second  officer,  had  been 
boatswain  upon  the  ship  that  carried  Paoli  from  Nagasaki 
to  Goa  on  the  occasion  of  his  banishment  from  Japan. 
He,  therefore,  knew  the  priest  well.  Carefully  as  the 
latter  was  now  disguised,  Cruger’s  suspicions  were 
aroused,  and  he  felt  convinced  that  the  so-called  Anjiro 
had  also  recognized  him.  Cruger  determined  to  watch 
the  two  Japanese  and,  in  the  meantime,  to  keep  his  sus. 
picions  to  himself.  On  the  night  preceding  the  day  in 


j.8  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


which  the  events  narrated  in  the  last  chapter  took  place 
the  officer  at  a late  hour  crept  cautiously  to  the  place 
where  Shiro  and  Anjiro  slept,  and  found  the  two  engaged 
in  a whispered  conversation,  speaking  for  the  greater 
safety  in  Japanese.  Cruger’s  acquaintance  with  that 
language  was  slight,  but  he  caught  enough  to  assure  him 
that  Anjiro  was  none  other  than  the  famous  Jesuit 
missionary,  Francesco  Paoli.  At  the  first  opportunity 
on  the  following  day  he  informed  the  captain  of  the 
discovery  he  had  made,  and  the  latter,  as  the  reader 
has  already  learned,  calling  Beaumont  to  his  cabin  and 
hearing  Shiro’s  story  from  him,  in  turn  revealed  to  the 
young  Englishman  what  had  been  made  known  to  him 
respecting  Anjiro. 

The  Englishman  advised  Van  Neist  to  call  in  Cruger, 
Shiro  and  Anjiro  and  to  have  a conference  with  them.  The 
captain  approved  the  plan,  and  when  the  three  men  were 
brought  together  and  Anjiro  was  charged  with  conceal- 
ing his  true  name  and  character,  to  the  surprise  of  all, 
instead  of  denying  the  accusation,  he  frankly  acknowl- 
edged its  truth. 

“ I have  deceived  you,  Sefior  Captain,”  he  said,  humbly. 
“ And  I ask  you,  was  not  the  deception  justifiable  ? The 
cause  with  which  I am  heart  and  soul  identified  has  now 
reached  its  supreme  crisis.  My  presence  and  the  presence 
of  my  companion  is  imperatively  called  for  in  Japan. 
No  Spanish  nor  Portuguese  ship  now  goes  to  that  coun- 
try ; my  only  resort  was  to  take  passage  with  you.  Had 
I,  as  the  banished  missionary,  Francesco  Paoli,  sought  to 
have  gone  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil , you,  Sefior  Captain, 
though  you  might  have  been  willing  to  receive  me, 
would  not  have  dared  to  do  so.  Is  it  not  so,  Sefior  ? I 
disguised  myself  as  a Japanese,  and  you  took  me  cheer- 
fully enough.  Had  I escaped  discovery,  neither  you  nor 


See  Pane  52. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missiotiarics. 


5 1 


my  enemies  would  have  ever  afterwards  suspected  the 
truth,  and  what  harm  could  the  deception,  which  I was 
compelled  to  practice,  have  done  you  or  the  interests  of 
your  countrymen  in  Japan  ? On  our  first  day  out,  how- 
ever, I recognized  Sefior  Cruger,  and  from  that  hour  I 
expected  detection.  My  fears  have  now  been  realized  ; 
you  know  who  I am.  I am  at  your  mercy.” 

Beaumont  was  deeply  touched  by  the  frankness  and  the 
simplicity  of  the  man,  and  even  the  stern,  matter-of-fact 
Van  Neist  was  visibly  moved.  It  was  evident  he  was 
much  more  disposed  to  be  lenient  than  he  had  been  a 
short  time  before.  Turning  to  the  second  officer,  who 
was  on  the  point  of  leaving  the  cabin,  he  said  briefly  : 

“ Cruger,  for  the  present,  let  this  go  no  further.  Neither 
the  other  officers  nor  the  crew  are  to  know  that  Bishop 
Paoli  is  aboard.”  And  then,  addressing  Shiro  with  some 
degree  of  sternness  in  his  voice  : “As  for  you  and  this 
man,  I shall  reserve  what  I have  to  say  until  we  approach 
Japan.  It  is  a useless  precaution  to  put  two  unarmed 
men  in  irons  so  far  away  from  land  ; nevertheless  you 
are  to  consider  yourselves  prisoners,  liable  to  be  handed 
over  to  the  government  officials  upon  the  arrival  of  the 
Spuyten  Duyvil  at  Nagasaki.” 


VI. 

A VISION  OF  WAR. 

A week  of  fair  weather  with  favoring  winds  passed  by, 
and  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  drew  near  her  destination.  Mar- 
mion  Beaumont  was  awakened  one  morning  at  daybreak 
by  the  voice  of  Van  Neist  : 

“ Land  ahead  ! Up,  Mynheer  Beaumont,  if  thou  wouldst 


52 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


look  upon  one  of  the  fairest  sights  to  be  seen  on  the 
earth.” 

Nothing  further  was  necessary  to  arouse  the  young 
Englishman  ; and  hastily  dressing  himself,  he  hurried  on 
deck.  The  bishop  and  Shiro  were  already  there,  both 
gazing  ahead  to  where,  some  twenty  miles  distant,  the 
green  summits  of  the  outlying  islands  of  Japan  were 
visible.  The  morning  was  bright  and  beautiful,  and  a 
fresh  breeze  drove  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  through  the  water, 
the  bank  of  plunging  foam  under  her  bows  bearing  evi- 
dence to  the  speed  with  which  the  good  ship  bore  on  her 
way. 

“ Yonder  islands  on  our  larboard  quarter,”  said  the  cap- 
tain, addressing  Beaumont,  “are  the  Goto  Islands,  and 
ahead  you  perceive  the  mainland  with  a belt  of  small 
islands  lying  in  close  to  the  coast ; and  that  long  stretch 
of  open  sea  is  the  outer  entrance  to  Nagasaki  bay,  the 
city  and  harbor  being  both  hidden  from  sight  by  yonder 
high  range  of  hills.  If  this  breeze  stands  by  us  we  ought 
to  be  inside  by  noonday.” 

As  the  morning  hours  wore  on,  and  the  Spuyten  Duyvil 
lessened  the  distance  between  her  and  the  entrance  to 
the  bay,  Beaumont  constantly  found  fresh  occasion  for 
admiration  in  the  beauty  of  the  prospect  before  him. 
Islets  of  all  sizes,  grouped  together  in  picturesque  con- 
fusion, seemed,  as  they  advanced,  to  hem  them  in  on 
either  side.  Towering  rocks  of  every  conceivable  shape — 
some  mimicking  the  tall  pointed  spires  of  a cathedral, 
others  the  frowning  ramparts  of  some  mighty  fortress — 
appeared  to  rise  up  out  of  the  water  as  they  advanced. 
At  the  rocky  bases  of  these  beetling  cliffs  the  surf  broke 
with  a sullen  roar,  dashing  its  wreaths  of  fleecy  foam 
high  into  the  air.  Beyond  the  islands,  the  mountains  on 
the  mainland  seemed  to  roll  away  from  the  coast  in  a 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  53 


long  succession  of  billowy  swells,  rising  higher  and 
higher  as  they  receded  from  the  shore,  their  rugged 
sides  everywhere  clothed  in  a mantle  of  vivid  green. 

Marmion  Beaumont,  turning  finally  from  a contempla- 
tion of  the  fair  scene  before  him,  looked  toward  Bishop 
Paoli  and  his  companion,  who  were  standing  aloof  from 
the  others,  both  silently  gazing  at  the  land  ahead.  The 
young  Englishman  had  already  gained  Van  Neist’s 
promise  not  to  give  them  over  into  the  hands  of  their 
enemies,  and  he  thought  that  their  safety  now  depended 
upon  themselves. 

“Your  land  is  indeed  a most  beautiful  one,”  he  said, 
coming  up  to  the  place  where  the  two  were  standing 
together,  and  addressing  his  remarks  to  Shiro,  “ I am  not 
surprised  that  you  Japanese  are  so  proud  of  your  country 
and  so  jealous  of  her  honor.” 

“The  more  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  in  such  a paradise 
man’s  hand  is  raised  against  the  hand  of  God,  and  his 
cruelty  blights  the  beauty  of  nature.”  Shiro  spoke  in  his 
usually  quiet  tone,  his  eyes  never  leaving  the  shore. 

“ Fair  as  yonder  land  is,”  broke  in  the  bishop,  “fairer 
still  will  it  be  when  its  millions  are  clothed  in  the  beauty 
of  holiness.” 

“You  see  nothing  but  sin  where  others  see  only  love- 
liness,” responded  Beaumont,  with  a smile.  “ But  it  is, 
I presume,  because  of  your  calling.  Men  can  seem  to  you 
to  be  only  brands  in  the  burning,  and  you  think  it 
is  your  mission  to  pluck  them  forth  from  the  midst  of 
destruction.  Honesty  of  purpose  in  a heathen,  like  the 
fairest  of  landscapes,  has  no  beauty  in  your  eyes  and  no 
place  in  your  thoughts.” 

“Nay,  you  are  mistaken.  Righteousness  in  even  an 
idolator  is  to  be  commended.  But  of  what  value  are  all 
the  glories  of  natural  beauty  if  they  but  make  alluring 


54  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  way  to  hell  ? What  terrors  can  the  deadliest  clime 
or  the  most  barren  desert  contain  if  there  souls  nrount 
upward  from  the  midst  of  misery  and  privation  to  the 
paradise  of  God  ?” 

The  bishop’s  voice  died  away  in  a hoarse  whisper.  He 
staggered,  and  would  have  fallen  had  not  Shiro  sprung 
forward  and  with  Beaumont’s  help,  seated  him  upon  a 
heap  of  cordage. 

“A  trance,”  said  Shiro,  in  reply  to  the  young  English- 
man’s look  of  inquiry.  “You  will  now  learn  the  source 
of  my  knowledge  of  events  that  are  at  present  occurring 
in  Japan.” 

Paoli’s  face  was  blanched  to  a deathlike  paleness.  His 
eyes  were  closed,  aud  his  breathing,  at  first,  was  heavy  and 
labored,  but  soon  became  as  gentle  as  that  of  a sleeping 
child.  Shiro  knelt  by  his  side,  and  taking  the  bishop’s 
hands  in  his  own,  inquired,  in  a clear,  low  voice  : 

“Good  father,  speak  ! What  dost  thou  see?” 

“ I see,”  replied  Paoli,  his  voice  sounding  hollow  and 
far  away — “ I see  a castle,  and  above  it  float  the  standards 
of  the  heathen.  Wait  ! I know  this  village  and  yonder 
mountain — yes,  it  is  the  castle  of  Tomioka.” 

“And  our  brethren  ?”  asked  Shiro,  anxiously.  “Good 
father,  dost  thou  see  aught  of  them  ?” 

“ No.  But  hold  ! What  is  that  that  meeteth  mine  eyes 
upon  the  Shikino  plain  ? It  is  the  camp  of  an  army,  and 
— Mother  of  God  be  praised  ! — I behold  upon  their 
banners  the  figure  of  our  Christ  and  his  cross  ! It  is  the 
camp  of  the  Christians  prepared  to  do  battle  for  their 
holy  faith  !” 

A silence  followed.  Both  Shiro  and  the  young  English- 
man waited  in  breathless  impatience  for  Paoli  to  continue. 
Over  the  face  of  the  bishop  flitted  an  amazed  expression, 
and  an  exclamation  of  surprise  burst  from  his  lips. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  55 

“ Speak  again,  good  father,”  cried  Shiro,  no  longer  able 
to  control  his  anxiety.  “ What  dost  thou  now  behold  ?” 
“ The  Christians  are  pouring  from  their  camp,  and  are 
marshaling  themselves  in  battle  array  upon  the  plain  ! 
And — O saints  and  angels  defend  them  ! — they  are  now 
rushing  in  three  solid  columns  upon  the  castle  ! Mad- 
ness ! madness  ! to  cast  away  their  lives  in  so  forlorn  a 
hope  ! How  bravely  they  sweep  forward  to  the  assault  ? 
Now  they  near  the  castle  walls  ; with  a wild  cry  they 
dash  on  at  redoubled  speed  ! And  now  ! now  ! Oh, 
merciful  God  !” 

With  a cry  of  anguish,  Paoli  struggled  in  the  arms  of 
the  two  men,  as  if  he  was  endeavoring  to  shut  out  some 
terrible  picture  from  his  sight.  Still  clinging  to  the 
bishop’s  hands,  Shiro,  trembling  with  his  own  intense 
emotions,  pleaded  with  passionate  earnestness  : 

“ Again,  again,  O father  ! Look  once  more,  and  tell 
me  what  it  is  that  thou  seest.” 

The  bishop  shuddered  as  he  responded  : 

“A  moment  ago  and  the  cloud  of  the  foemen’s  arrows 
and  missiles  of  death  darkened  the  air.  I saw  the  ranks 
of  our  brethren  melt  away  before  that  pitiless  storm  of 
destruction  as  might  melt  a snowdrift  before  a river  of 
flaming  lava.  For  an  instant  methought  I saw  them 
attempt  to  rally  and  again  prepare  to  rush  to  the  assault, 
but  what  happened  then  I know  not.  I heard  a savage 
shout  of  triumph  from  the  castle,  a ringing  cry  of  defi- 
ance from  the  Christians  ; again  came  the  crash  of 
musketry  and  the  fierce  tumult  of  battle.  Then  a diz- 
ziness came  over  me,  and  now,  when  I look,  only  a blood- 
red  haze  meets  my  sight,  but  what  it  conceals  I know  not 
— I know  not  !” 

Paoli  was  now  fast  falling  into  that  comatose  condition 
that  frequently  follows  a trance  ; nevertheless,  with  the 


56  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


assistance  of  Beaumont  and  Shiro,  he  was  able  to  go 
below.  The  Englishman,  it  may  well  be  believed,  had 
been  greatly  amazed  at  what  he  had  just  seen  and  heard, 
and,  as  he  and  Shiro  were  returning  to  the  deck,  he  said 
in  a low  voice  that  the  seamen  standing  by  might  not 
hear  : 

“ These  trances — does  the  bishop  frequently  fall  into 
them  ? And  can  he  summon  them  whenever  it  may 
please  him  to  do  so  ?” 

Shiro  seemed  reluctant  to  discuss  the  subject,  but  at 
length  he  whispered  back  : 

“ They  are  wholly  involuntary.  He  has  been  subject 
to  them  I have  heard  ever  since  he  was  a child,  but  they 
come  only  when  some  deadly  peril  or  a great  crisis  affects 
the  fortunes  of  those  in  whom  he  takes  a profound  per- 
sonal interest.  You  saw  how  it  was  in  the  instance  we 
have  just  witnessed.  Evidently  our  brethren  were 
endeavoring  to  carry  some  infidel  stronghold  by  storm, 
and  were  in  danger  of  defeat.” 

“ And  this  battle  was  taking  place  at  the  very  time  the 
bishop  beheld  it  in  his  vision  ?” 

“ Even  so.” 

“ Strange  ! strange  !”  said  Beaumont  ; then  fixing  a 
keen  look  upon  Shiro,  he  asked  suddenly  : 

“ Have  you  ever  known  the  bishop  to  exercise  a mes- 
meric power  over  others,  throwing  them  into  a trance  ot 
causing  them  involuntarily  to  obey  him  ?” 

The  Japanese  youth’s  face  flushed  and  his  eyes  fell 
before  the  questioner’s  gaze. 

“ Ask  the  crew  of  the  Spuyten  Duyvilf  he  replied,  as 
soon  as  hfe  recovered  from  his  confusion,  “they all  believe 
Father  Paoli  to  be  a sorcerer.  But  excuse  me,  Sefior,” 
he  continued  nervously,  “ I must  return  to  the  bishop  ; 
he  may  need  attendance  ; ” and  Shiro  hastened  below. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries 


?/ 


Beaumont  smiled  as  he  looked  after  his  retreating 
figure. 

“So,  so,”  he  mused  half  aloud,  “the  conclusion,  then, 
to  which  a week’s  study  of  those  two  had  brought  me 
is  correct.  Nirado  Shiro  is  nothing  more  than  a voice 
and  hand  of  Francesco  Paoli,  and  should  this  rebellion, 
which  they  declared  has  already  begun,  be  successful, 
and  should  this  youth  become,  as  he  believes  himself 
destined  to  become,  the  ruler  of  Japan,  it  will  not  be  he 
who  shall  govern  but  this  strange  being  who  has  gained 
so  complete  and  so  mysterious  a power  over  him.  Truly, 
they  are  two  men  of  destiny.” 

And  pondering  upon  these  things,  the  Englishman 
went  forward  to  hunt  up  his  friend,  Captain  Van  Neist. 


BOOK  SECOND. 


TAKABOKA. 

I. 

CAPTAIN  VAN  NEIST  RECEIVES  A LETTER 


N the  name  of  all  that’s  wonderful, 
Heer  Santvoort's  boat  is  coming 
out  to  meet  us  !”  Captain  Van 
Neist  lowered  his  glass,  and,  with 
a perplexed  expression  on  his  face, 
turned  to  Beaumont.  “ I do  not 
understand  this,”  he  exclaimed, 
“something  has  happened.” 

The  Englishman  took  the  glass 
and  looked  in  the  direction  the 
captain  was  indicating  with  his 
outstretched  arm.  There  some  little  distance  ahead  he 
saw  a small  boat  directly  in  the  course  of  the  merchantman. 
Three  picturesquely  dressed  natives  were  slowly  urging 
the  strange-looking  little  craft  toward  the  Spuyten  Duyvil. 
The  combined  speed  of  the  ship  and  the  boat  itself  was 
vapidly  lessening  the  distance  between  the  two,  and  in  a 
short  time  the  sampan,  as  this  species  of  craft  is  called, 
was  under  the  vessel's  bows.  A well-dressed  Japanese 
issued  from  the  tiny  cabin,  built  in  the  middle  of 
the  boat,  and,  observing  Van  Neist  looking  down  at  him 

L58] 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


59 


he  drew  something  white  from  the  bosom  of  his  loose 
flowing  dress,  and,  waving  it  above  his  head,  shouted  out 
a few  words  in  Dutch  to  the  captain. 

“ Ah  !”  exclaimed  Van  Neist,  “Heer  Santvoort,  the 
private  trader  at  Nagasaki,  has  sent  me  a letter.  Strange 
that  he  should  meet  us  so  far  out,  and  stranger  still,  that 
if  there  is  anything  of  importance  to  communicate,  he 
has  not  come  himself.  Believe  me,  there  is  something 
wrong.  That  young  man  in  the  boat,  if  I mistake  not,  is 
Asuga,  Santvoort’s  interpreter.” 

In  a few  minutes  Asuga — for  he  it  proved  to  be — was 
upon  deck  and  had  delivered  the  letter  to  the  captain, 
who  hastily  broke  its  seal,  and  after  running  it  through, 
read  it  aloud  in  English  to  Beaumont  : 

“To  Heer  Van  Neist,  Honorable  Master  of  the 
Spuyten  Duyvil  : Sir — The  look-out  reports  a foreign 

ship  approaching  this  coast,  and  as  no  other  vessel  is 
expected,  it  must  be  you.  I regret  to  say  that  I am  unable 
to  come  to  you  in  person,  that  being  expressly  forbidden 
by  His  Excellency,  the  Governor  of  Nagasaki.  I am,  how- 
ever, permitted  to  send  you  this  letter  to  acquaint  you 
with  the  condition  of  affairs  in  this  part  of  the  empire, 
and  also  to  inform  you  of  the  measures  that  His  Excel- 
lency has  decided  upon  taking  with  regard  to  any  Jap- 
anese passengers  you  may  have  on  board. 

“About  a week  ago  the  Christains  of  Amakusa,  a large 
island  lying  southeast  of  here,  rose  in  rebellion  against 
their  prince,  and  the  insurrection  has  already  assumed  a 
most  serious  aspect,  having  spread  to  the  neighboring 
province  of  Shimabara.  A number  of  battles  have  been 
fought,  and  thus  far  the  government  troops  have  been 
unsuccessful  in  their  efforts  to  surpress  the  insurgents. 
Fears  are  entertained  that  the  doctrines  of  the  foreign 


6o  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


priests  have  a large  following  throughout  the  country, 
and  that  the  victories  gained  by  the  Amakusa  and  Shim- 
abara  rebels  will  encourage  many  secret  sympathizers  to 
rise  with  them  in  an  endeavor  to  overthrow  the  govern- 
ment. On  this  account  the  authorities  feel  compelled  to 
resort  to  extreme  measures  to  avert  any  such  danger.  A 
few  days  ago  a Spanish  priest  was  discovered  in  a village 
near  the  city  disguised  as  a Japanese,  and  to-morrow  he  is 
to  be  put  to  death.  To-day  the  government  officers,  with  a 
large  body  of  soldiers,  are  hunting  out  any  that  may  be 
Christians  in  the  villages  north  of  us  and  among  the  moun- 
tains across  the  bay. 

“ His  Excellency  the  Governor  commands  me  to  inform 
you  that  he  will  send  Kanshin,  his  deputy,  with  a num- 
ber of  officials,  to  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  to  examine  such 
Japanese  passengers  as  you  may  have  with  you,  and  to 
compel  them  to  trample  on  the  cross — a very  successful 
method  of  inquisition  the  Japanese  have  invented  to  find 
out  who  are  Christians,  since  no  true  believer  will  con- 
sent, even  on  pain  of  certain  death,  thus  to  insult 
the  sacred  symbol  of  his  religion.  I need  hardly  say 
that  the  Governor’s  officers  will  be  afforded  all  the  as- 
sistance in  your  power  to  make  their  examination  of 
your  ship  as  thorough  and  satisfactory  as  His  Excellency 
may  wish.  Information  has  lately  come  to  Nagasaki 
that  some  Japanese  Christians  now  in  the  Philippines 
contemplate  a return  to  Japan  for  the  purpose  of  stirring 
up  their  fellow-believers  to  a revolt.  You  remember,  I 
presume,  that  famous  Jesuit  missionary.  Francesco 
Paoli  ; nothing  has  been  heard  of  him  for  above  two 
years,  and  the  government  now  breathes  freer,  being 
convinced  that  that  arch-enemy  of  their  peace  and 
safety  is  either  dead  or  has  returned  to  Europe  to  trouble 
them  no  more.  I would  God  that  I could  be  as  confi- 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


61 


dent  of  this  as  they  appear  to  be,  for  I greatly  fear  that 
the  crafty  Jesuit  is  still  alive,  and,  wherever  he  may  be, 
is  plotting  against  the  quiet  of  the  country.  A letter 
yesterday  from  the  factory  at  Hirado  brings  the  wel- 
come intelligence  that  Mynheer  Nicolass  Koeckenbacker 
will  be  in  Nagasaki  to-morrow. 

“ May  we  soon  have  the  happiness  of  seeing  you. 
Your  honor’s  most  humble  servant, 

“ Melchior  Santvoort.” 

When  the  captain  had  finished  reading  the  letter,  he 
and  Beaumont  looked  at  each  other  for  a time  in  silence. 
Both  men  realized  the  difficulty  of  the  situation.  The 
Englishman  was  the  first  to  speak. 

“ Whatever  may  happen,”  said  he,  “ this  can  be  affirmed 
— the  captain  of  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  is  free  from  suspic- 
ion. You  had  no  means  of  knowing  that  Shiro  was  an 
openly  avowed  rebel,  or  that  the  man  calling  himself 
Anjiro  was  a Jesuit  in  disguise  ; and  the  voyage  was 
more  than  half  over  before  their  true  characters  were 
discovered.  I can  vouch  for  that.  But  what  of  them — - 
Shiro  and  Paoli  ? It  seems  now,  indeed,  that  there  is  no 
escape  for  them.  Would  that  there  were  ! Is  it  not 
possible  that  even  yet  something  might  be  done  ?” 

“No,  nothing  can  be  done,”  replied  Van  Neist,  curtly, 
and  with  a trace  of  impatience  in  his  voice.  “ They  took 
the  risk  of  being  discovered  when  they  came  aboard 
this  ship,  and  now,  when  detection  threatens  them,  they 
must  abide  the  consequences  of  their  own  rashness.” 


62 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


II. 

THE  GOVERNOR'S  DEPUTY  LOSES  HIS  SWORD. 

The  traveller  of  the  present  day,  standing  on  the  deck 
of  one  of  the  many  steamships  that  enter  the  little  land- 
locked bay  of  Nagasaki,  is  certain  to  have  a rocky  islet, 
just  outside  the  harbor,  pointed  out  to  him,  with  the  re- 
mark : “ There,  that’s  Pappenberg  !”  The  little  island 
thus  so  familiarly  known  to  all  tourists  as  to  need  no 
furthur  introduction  in  order  to  enlist  their  deepest  in- 
terest, is,  to  the  European,  one  of  the  classic  spots  of  the 
Far  East.  More  than  two  centuries  ago  the  Dutch  gave 
it  the  name  of  Pappenberg,  for  reasons  which  the 
readers  of  this  history  are  soon  to  learn  ; but  the  Japan- 
ese have  always  called  it  Takaboka — this  word  mean- 
ing, Tall  Spear.  The  name  is  very  appropriate,  for 
the  island-rock  does  resemble  a gigantic  spear  head  set 
upon  its  base.  The  islet  is,  perhaps,  a half  mile  in  cir- 
cumference, and  its  highest  point  rises  somewhere  in  the 
neighborhood  of  six  hundred  feet  above  the  water.  The 
southern  side  is  precipitous  almost  from  the  summit, 
and  from  the  top  one  gazes  down  on  the  sharp,  black 
rocks,  over  which,  in  storms,  the  waves  churn  themselves 
into  white  drifts  of  seething  foam.  To  the  northward  there 
is  a thickly  wooded  slope  leading  down  with  a gradual 
descent  to  the  water’s  edge,  where  it  terminates  in  a wide, 
white,  sandy  beach.  The  island  is  now  frequented  as  a 
picnic  resort  by  the  foreign  residents  of  Nagasaki,  and, 
during  the  summer  months,  the  beach  is  used  as  a bath- 
ing-ground.  The  distance  from  the  city  is  but  a league, 
and  the  ride  down  the  bay,  hemmed  in  on  either  side  by 
the  green  beauty  of  the  inclosing  hills,  and  out  into  the 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  63 


wider  waters  of  the  outer  passage  to  the  pretty  little 
island,  is  a delight  not  soon  to  be  forgotten  by  those 
who  have  once  enjoyed  it. 

As  at  present,  so  also  at  the  time  of  which  we  are  writ- 
ing, vessels  entering  Nagasaki  Bay  passed  close  under 
Takaboka.  It  happened  that,  as  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  came 
before  the  island  under  a full  spread  of  canvas,  the  wind, 
which,  for  some  time  past,  had  been  blowing  in  light, 
fitful  gusts,  gave  unmistakable  evidence  of  dying  away 
altogether.  And  this  it  did  do,  just  as  the  ship  lay  before 
the  entrance  to  the  harbor.  Finding  that  his  vessel  had 
lost  way,  and  that  the  tide  was  setting  out  with  a strong 
current  from  the  bay,  Van  Neist  ordered  the  anchor  to 
be  dropped,  and  soon,  with  her  sails  thundering  against 
the  shrouds,  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  swung  round  to  the  tide, 
her  bow  rising  and  falling  on  the  broad,  deep  swells  that 
set  in  from  the  open  sea.  The  captain  fretted  and  grum- 
bled at  the  unexpected  turn  matters  had  taken. 

“ Too  bad,  too  bad,  I say,  Mynheer  Beaumont  ! that 
just  as  we  are  in  sight  of  port  the  wind  must  play  us 
such  a trick  as  this.  But,”  he  added,  casting  his  eye 
around  the  sky,  “ if  I mistake  not,  there  is  plenty  of  wind 
over  there,”  pointing  to  a ragged  bank  of  black  clouds 
that  was  slowly  rising  in  the  south-west.  “ So,  perhaps, 
we  ought  to  be  thankful  that  we  are  so  near  our  haven, 
for  methinks  a full-grown  typhoon  is  brewing  out 
yonder.” 

“ If  that  should  be  the  case,”  asked  Beaumont,  “ will 
there  be  breeze  enough  before  the  storm  bursts  to  put 
us  inside  ?” 

“ Oh,  yes  ; these  storms  usually  begin  quite  moderate- 
ly and  increase  in  violence.  As  soon  as  we  feel  the  first 
puff  we  shall  weigh  anchor,  and  run  in,  and  shall  be 
safely  anchored  again  before  the  storm  really  breaks 


64  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


upon  us.  Even  here,  unless  the  typhoon  is  one  of  un- 
usual fury,  we  are  quite  secure.  But  what  is  that  ?” 

Asuga,  who  was  standing  by,  answered  his  question. 

“That,  Heer  Captain,  is  the  boat  which  is  bringing 
the  governor’s  deputy  and  the  officers  to  examine  the 
Japanese  passengers.” 

“ Indeed  !”  responded  the  captain,  in  by  no  means  a 
gracious  tone  of  voice.  “ Then  I shall  go  forward  to 
receive  them.” 

The  officers,  eight  in  number,  were  already  on  deck  by 
the  time  Van  Neist  and  the  young  Englishman  had 
reached  the  ladder.  Beaumont  was  interested  in  not- 
ing their  quaint  appearance,  so  different  from  anything 
he  had  ever  before  seen.  They  had  thought  it  necessary 
to  equip  themselves  in  full  military  accoutrement,  their 
heads  protected  by  helmets  and  their  bodies  by  heavy 
quilted  armor.  Each  bore  two  swords — a long  and  a 
short  one — and  their  whole  appearance  struck  the  Eng- 
lishman as  extremely  savage. 

As  Van  Neist  and  Beaumont  approached,  instead  of 
the  usual  low  bow  of  salutation,  they  all  stood  stiffly 
erect,  and  their  interpreter,  stepping  forward,  made 
known  their  errand  : 

“His  Excellent  Highness,  the  Governor  of  Nagasaki, 
demands  that  you  deliver  up,  for  examination,  such  of 
his  subjects  or  other  Japanese  that  may  be  aboard  your 
ship  and,  having  given  his  message  in  his  most  meas- 
ured and  pompous  tones,  he  stepped  back  into  the  ranks 
of  his  comrades,  who  had  formed  themselves  into  a line 
of  scowling  faces  along  the  deck. 

“Curse  his  insolence,”  growled  the  captain  beneath  his 
breath  to  Beaumont,  in  English.  “I  would  like  to  give 
him  a taste  of  my  cat-o’-nine-tails.  There’s  something 
in  the  wind.  The  last  time  I was  here  they  were  all 


[ BOAT  BRINGING  THE  GOVERNOR’S  OEPUTY.— See  Par/e  64 


Paoli : the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  67 


cringing  and  scraping  the  deck,  their  mouths  full  of  the 
softest  flattery.  But  it  is  the  way  with  this  accursed  na- 
tion— all  flattery  and  abject  humility  if  they  have  any- 
thing to  gain,  but  all  overbearing  insolence  if  they  think 
they  have  the  upper  hand.  Curse  them,  they’ll  not  lord 
it  over  me  !” 

Van  Neist  knew  well  enough,  however,  that  any  dis- 
play of  resentment  upon  his  part  was  just  what  the 
haughty  officials  would  have  welcomed  the  most  as 
another  excuse  for  drawing  the  lines  stricter  upon  the 
already  restriction-burdened  Dutch  merchants  of  Nagas- 
aki and  Hirado.  He,  therefore,  simply  replied  to  the 
officers,  through  the  interpreter,  that  he  granted  their 
request,  and,  turning  to  Cruger,  he  ordered  him  to  call 
Anjiro  and  Shiro. 

The  young  Englishman  could  not  repress  a shudder  as 
he  reflected  that  in  a few  minutes  the  two  friends  must 
meet  whatever  terrible  ordeal  these  pitiless  inquisitors 
might  have  in  store  for  them  ; and  he  grew  sick  at  heart 
as  he  imagined  the  hapless  Jesuit,  his  disguise  torn  off, 
standing  bound  in  the  midst  of  his  ruthless  foes.  What 
triumph  would  swell  these  savage  hearts  when  they  dis- 
covered that  the  feared  and  hated  missionary,  Francesco 
Paoli,  upon  whose  head  a price  had  been  set  for  more 
than  ten  years,  was  at  last  in  their  hands  ! 

After  a delay  of  several  minutes  Cruger  returned,  his 
face  wearing  a bewildered  look. 

“ What  it  the  matter  ?”  demanded  the  captain.  “ Where 
are  Anjiro  and  Shiro  ?” 

“Mynheer  Captain,”  responded  the  officer,  “ I have 
searched  the  ship  thoroughly,  but  Anjiro  and  Shiro  are 
not  to  be  found.” 

“Anjiro  and  Shiro  not  to  be  found  !”  exclaimed  both 


68  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Van  Neistand  Beaumont  simultaneously,  the  latter  with 
mingled  amazement  and  relief. 

“ Anjiro  and  Shiro  not  to  be  found  !”  cried  the  horrified 
interpreter  in  Japanese. 

“Anjiro  and  Shiro,  two  subjects  of  Japan,  not  to  be 
found  !’’  growled  forth  the  line  of  scowling  officials,  and 
as  every  sword  was  drawn  from  its  scabbard,  the  growl 
continued  : “Anjiro  and  Shiro  must  be  produced  !” 

This  threatening  movement  was  too  much  for  the  hot- 
tempered  Van  Neist  and  his  crew  that  now  formed  a 
close  circle  around  the  officials.  As  Kanshin  the  deputy 
with  a.  hostile  gesture  stepped  up  to  the  captain,  the 
latter,  with  a roar  of  rage,  threw  himself  upon  the 
Japanese,  and  before  the  officer  was  aware  of  his  inten- 
tion, tore  his  sword  from  his  grasp.  The  crew  now 
dashed  in  between  their  captain  and  the  deputy’s  com- 
panions, and,  for  a moment,  Beaumont  thought  a conflict 
unavoidable.  But  a glance  at  the  fierce,  resolute  faces 
about  them,  convinced  the  Japanese  officials  of  the  folly 
of  provoking  a quarrel  with  such  odds  against  them,  and, 
returning  their  swords  to  their  scabbards,  they  sullenly 
fell  back  and  stood  in  a little  group  by  the  vessel’s  side. 

“Tell  this  officer  and  his  companions,”  Van  Neist 
shouted  to  Asuga,  who  had  been  a terrified  spectator  of 
the  scene,  “ that  if  they  do  not  immediately  leave  my 
ship  I shall  give  orders  to  have  them  seized  and  thrown 
overboard.” 

Seeing  no  way  of  escape,  Asuga  did  as  he  was  ordered, 
and  when  the  deputy  had  spoken  he  interpreted  to  the 
captain  the  meaning  of  his  speech,  which  was  that  they 
agreed  to  quit  the  ship  as  soon  as  Van  Neist  returned 
Kanshin  his  sword. 

“ Tell  him,”  the  captain  ordered,  “ that  I shall  keep 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  69 


the  sword  as  a souvenir  of  the  courtesy  of  Japanese 
officials.” 

The  deputy,  when  he  learned  what  Van  Neist  had  said, 
seemed  to  be  greatly  agitated,  and  renewed  his  pleadings 
with  touching  earnestness.  But  the  captain  was  obdurate; 
and  finally,  the  officials,  vanquished  and  crest-fallen,  took 
their  leave. 


III. 

THE  FIRST  OFFICER  MAKES  AN  EXPLANATION. 

“Shiro  and  Paoli  have  escaped,”  said  Beaumont  as  soon 
as  the  Japanese  officials  had  left  the  Spuyten  Duyvil. 

“I  am  glad  they  got  out  of  a very  difficult  place  just 
in  the  nick  of  time.  But  how  did  they  get  away  ?” 

“ I can  tell  you  that,  captain,”  broke  in  the  first  officer, 
who  had  overheard  Van  Neist’s  question.  “ About  an  hour 
ago,  I observed  a small  boat,  partially  filled  with  water, 
drifting  out  to  sea  with  the  tide.  It  became  lodged 
against  the  side  of  the  ship,  and  it  then  occurred  to  me 
that  if  our  Japanese  passengers  wished  to  get  ashore 
quietly  and  as  soon  as  possible,  here  was  their  chance. 
I remarked  as  much  to  them,  and  they  at  once  fell  in  with 
my  suggestion  ” — and  here  a broad  smile  overspread  the 
officer’s  honest  face — “so  in  a short  time  they  had  their 
baggage  in  the  boat,  and  were  off.” 

Van  Neist  had  listened  to  the  officer  with  a face  that 
threatened  to  break  into  a smile,  despite  his  efforts  to 
look  severe. 

“ It  would  have  been  more  in  accordance  with  the  dis- 
cipline of  the  ship,  Van  Sylt,  if  you  had  first  consulted 


;o 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries . 


me.  But  it  is  too  late  now  to  undo  what  has  been  done. 
Hereafter,  however,  be  more  observant  of  our  rules,”  and 
with  this  rebuke,  the  captain  accompanied  by  Beaumon^ 
left  the  group  of  officers  and  seamen. 

“ Van  Sylt,”  said  Van  Neist  to  the  Englishman,  as  the 
two  walked  aft  side  by  side,  “is  the  best  officer  I ever 
had,  but  he  is  a Catholic  withal,  and,  I doubt  not,  he 
knew  all  about  Shiro  and  Paoli  long  before  we  did.” 

Just  then  a sound  was  borne  over  the  water  from  the 
hills  to  the  west. 

“ What  can  it  be  ?”  exclaimed  the  captain.  “It  surely 
is  not  thunder.” 

The  sound  swelled  louder  and  louder,  every  now  and 
then  breaking  into  a sharp,  explosive  rattle. 

“Musketry  !”  cried  Beaumont. 

“And  the  shouting  of  men  !”  added  Van  Neist. 

“A  battle  !”  exclaimed  both  together. 

A battle  it  certainly  was  ; for  now  could  be  distinctly 
heard  the  sharp  report  of  fire-arms,  the  frenzied  shouts 
of  combatants,  and  above  all  the  uproar,  the  piercing 
shrieks  of  women.  The  high  peak  of  the  rocky  islet, 
Takaboka,  intercepted  their  view,  but  it  was  manifest  to 
the  listeners  that  the  conflict  was  rolling  nearer  and 
nearer,  for  the  sounds  were  constantly  becoming  more 
audible.  Summoning  Asuga,  the  captain  asked  him  if  he 
knew  what  it  meant. 

“ This  morning  the  governor  dispatched  a large  body 
of  soldiers  to  seize  the  Christian  farmers  dwelling  in  the 
Inasa  mountains  and  in  the  Murakami  valley  north  of  the 
city.  I presume  the  Christians  were,  in  some  way,  made 
aware  of  the  governor’s  intention,  and  have  gathered 
together  and  are  resisting  the  officers  and  their  men.” 

“ See  yonder  !”  cried  Beaumont,  pointing  toward  the 


Paoli ; the  Last  o/  the  Missionaries.  71 

entrance  of  the  harbor.  “A  Heet  of  boats  full  of  armed 
men  is  coming  down  the  bay  !” 

Van  Neist  and  the  interpreter  looked  in  the  direction 
indicated  by  the  Englishman,  and  beheld  the  water 
literally  covered  with  sampans , bearing  straight  down 
upon  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  with  all  the  speed  that  the  rowers 
could  command.  Each  boat  contained  from  ten  to  fifteen 
soldiers,  in  full  armor — some  bearing  bows,  others  long 
spears,  and  not  a few  carrying  muskets. 

“They  are  making  straight  for  us,”  exclaimed  the 
captain.  “ What  can  it  mean  ?” 

“ I do  not  know,”  answered  Asuga.  “ But  let  us  wait 
quietly,  and,”  he  added,  casting  his  eyes  about  the  ship, 
and  upon  the  officers  and  men,  who  were  now  regarding 
the  approaching  boats  with  suspicious  alarm,  “I  advise 
you  to  make  no  efforts  towards  resisting  them,  should 
they  wish  to  board  your  ship.  I cannot  think  that  they 
have  hostile  intentions  upon  the  Spuyten  Duyvil,  but 
resistance  might  provoke  them  and  make  trouble.” 

Van  Neist  turned  impatiently  from  Asuga,  and 
addressed  Beaumont  in  English  : 

“A  fine  thing,  Mynheer  Beaumont,  that  a ship  captain 
must  needs  let  his  hands  hang  idle  by  his  side,  and  permit 
an  army  of  armed  barbarians  to  swarm  over  his  deck!  And 
this  fellow,  like  all  the  commoners  in  Japan,  trembles  at 
the  sight  of  a Samurai.  Forsooth,  he  would  have  us 
stand  tamely  by  and  be  butchered  if  those  swaggering 
scoundrels  yonder  take  it  into  their  heads  to  draw  their 
swords  upon  us.  But  he’ll  see  whether  we’ll  cringe  like 
craven  cowards  before  a horde  of  savages  !” 

And  the  captain,  his  eyes  blazing  with  anger,  sprang 
upon  a heap  of  cordage,  shouting  : 

“ Men,  to  arms  ! On  with  your  cutlasses  ! Have  the 
muskets  brought  on  deck  ; unlimber  and  load  the  guns  !” 


72  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Instantly  the  deck  was  a scene  of  wild  confusion,  the 
men  hurrying  to  arm  themselves  and  make  preparations 
for  the  conflict  that  now  seemed  to  them  inevitable. 

The  reader  will  remember  that  in  the  days  of  which 
we  are  writing,  the  waters  of  both  the  Eastern  and  the 
Western  Seas  swarmed  with  pirates.  It  was  thus  a neces- 
sity for  merchant  ships  to  have  a strong  and  well-trained 
crew,  and  to  carry  a very  arsenal  of  arms  for  defence. 
Often  the  larger  merchantmen  fell  but  little  short  of  the 
men-of-warof  the  times  in  the  number  of  their  guns,  and 
some  of  the  most  desperate  sea-fights  of  the  age  were 
those  fought  between  merchant  ships  and  the  pirates. 
The  Spuyten  Duyvil  carried  twelve  heavy  guns,  and  her 
crew  had  shown  their  bravery  in  more  than  one  hard- 
fought  engagement.  In  her  early  career  she  had  borne 
the  name  of  Goede  Vrouw , but  it  had  happened  that  after 
a fierce  encounter  with  two  pirates  off  the  African  coast 
— a battle  in  which  she  had  sunk  the  one  and  captured 
the  other — the  conquered  chief  of  the  freebooters  had 
told  Van  Neist  that  the  Goede  Vrouiv  was  a veritable  spit- 
ting devil , and,  from  that  time,  Spuyten  Duyvil  the  good 
ship  had  been  called,  and  the  name  was  well-known 
among  the  pirates  of  both  the  Indies. 

IV. 

A CONFERENCE. 

Asuga,  the  interpreter,  perceiving  the  preparations  for 
battle  that  were  being  made  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil, 
sprang  into  his  boat  and  was  rowed  off  in  the  direction 
of  the  approaching  soldiers.  Beaumont  pointed  him  out 
to  the  captain,  who  now  appeared  upon  deck  fully  armed 
and  said  : 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ Yonder  goes  our  timid  adviser  to  inform  his  country- 
men, I presume,  of  what  they  may  expect.  We  shall 
soon  know  what  they  intend  to  do.  And,  captain,  I have 
a request  to  make  : If  there  should  be  a conflict  I desire 
your  permission  to  fight  by  your  side.  You  see,  I am 
armed  and  ready.” 

“Thank  you,”  responded  Van  Neist,  gratefully. 
“Every  man  will  count,  and  especially  so  since  we  are  to 
meet  an  enemy  that  so  heavily  outnumbers  us.  But  look 
yonder ! Asuga  is  speaking  to  that  officer  in  the  fore- 
most boat,  and,  as  I live,  they  are  resting  on  their  oars, 
and  the  interpreter  is  hurrying  back  to  us  !” 

In  a short  time  Asuga  was  within  hailing  distance,  and 
he  called  out  to  Van  Neist : 

“ It  is  all  right ; they  are  friends  ; let  them  go  aboard  !” 
“We  are  ready  for  action,”  Van  Neist  shouted  back. 
“The  men  are  at  arms,  and  every  gun  is  loaded  and 
ready.  If  those  soldiers  come  a yard  nearer  my  ship,  I 
will  give  the  order  to  fire.  If  they  wish  to  consult  with 
me  let  their  leader  with  six  men  come  aboard  and  I shall 
talk  with  him.  But  the  rest  must  remain  where  they 
are.” 

Asuga  returned  to  the  officer  with  whom  he  had  pre- 
viously been  speaking,  and  another  consultation  was  held, 
the  men  upon  the  Spuyten  Dnyvil  watching  the  proceed- 
ings with  anxious  interest.  As  they  stood  awaiting  de- 
velopments, the  sound  of  the  conflict  beyond  Takaboka 
continued  without  intermission,  and,  seemingly,  was  still 
moving  in  their  direction.  But  for  the  present  they  had 
eyes  and  ears  only  for  what  was  taking  place  before 
them. 

Finally,  after  a long  parley,  Asuga  was  seen  to 
again  turn  around  and  make  towards  the  ship,  followed 


74  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


by  the  officer’s  boat,  the  others  remaining  where  they 
were. 

“ Let  us  aboard;  your  proposal  is  accepted.” 

In  answer  to  Asuga’s  request  the  ship’s  ladder  was 
lowered,  and  he,  together  with  the  officer  and  six  of  the 
latter’s  chief  retainers,  were  received  on  board.  A very 
marked  difference  w’as  observed  in  their  behavior  from 
that  of  those  connected  with  the  governor’s  deputy. 
The  firm  stand  made  by  Van  Neist  had  had  a whole- 
some effect  upon  the  officer  and  his  men,  who,  had  they 
been  tamely  allowed  to  board  the  ship,  would  have  con- 
ducted themselves  with  as  much  arrogance  and  insolent 
swaggering  as  the  others.  They  were  quick  to  preceive, 
however,  that  they  stood  in  the  presence  of  brave  and  de- 
termined men,  who  would  tolerate  no  blustering  or  bully- 
ing, and  they  conducted  themselves  accordingly. 

Approaching  the  captain  with  low  bows,  the  officer, 
whom  Asuga  introduced  as  General  Hosokawa,  at  once 
proceeded  to  address  him  in  Japanese,  which,  although 
unintelligible  to  his  listeners,  Van  Neist  judged  to  be  some 
request,  from  the  speaker’s  frequent  low  bows  which  he 
always  accompanied  with  a long,  audible  suction  of  his 
breath.  When  he  had  finished,  Asuga  conveyed  the 
purport  of  his  speech  to  the  captain  and  officers  of  the 
ship,  who  had  gathered  round  eager  to  hear  the  cause  of 
so  much  hostile  display. 

“ It  seems,”  said  the  interpreter,  “that  what  I surmised 
concerning  the  cause  of  the  battle  that  we  hear  over  there 
is  correct.  The  Christains  dwelling  among  those  mount- 
ains were  just  on  the  point  of  rising  in  rebellion  and  join- 
ing the  insurgents  now  assembled,  more  than  thirty 
thousand  strong,  at  the  village  of  Arima,  some  twenty-five 
miles  to  the  east  of  here.  Thus  it  happened  that  when 
the  governor's  officers  with  their  soldiers  arrived  thismorn- 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  75 

ing  at  Inasa  they  found  every  house  deserted.  Pushing 
forward,  they  at  length  discovered  tne  entire  population, 
numbering  some  five  thousand  men,  women  and  children, 
gathered  on  the  shore  behind  yonder  long,  rocky  island. 
They  were  just  in  the  act  of  embarking  in  boats  to  sail 
around  the  point  of  the  cape  to  join  their  friends  on  the 
other  side. 

“The  officers  called  upon  the  Christains  to  surrender, 
but  the  latter  replied  to  the  summons  with  a volley  of 
arrows  and  stones,  and  some  armed  with  guns,  fired  upon 
the  soldiers,  killing  a number  and  wounding  many  more. 
The  soldiers  were  then  ordered  to  attack  the  rebels,  and 
the  fight  has  been  going  on  ever  since.  From  a deserter, 
who  came  over  to  the  officers,  it  has  been  learned 
that  having  seen  the  foreign  ship  anchored  here,  the 
rebels  have  formed  the  daring  plan  of  seizing  her  for  the 
arms  and  other  munitions  of  war  that  she  may  contain, 
and  compelling  her  captain  to  transport  them  to  Arima. 
As  soon  as  this  intelligence  reached  Nagasaki,  His  Excel- 
lency the  Governor  dispatched  General  Hosokawa,  with  a 
thousand  picked  men,  to  help  you  in  defending  your  ship 
against  the  rebels.  General  Hosokawa,  therefore,  begs 
that  you  will  allow  him  to  place  five  hundred  of  his  men 
aboard  the  Spuyten  Dtiyvil,  while  the  remainder  will  be 
drawn  up  between  your  ship  and  the  enemy.” 

Van  Neist  listened  attentively  to  what  Asuga  had  to 
say.  The  truthfulness  of  the  story  he  had  no  reason  to 
doubt  ; and  had  he  been  disposed  to  do  so,  visible  proof 
of  the  officer’s  veracity  was  at  hand.  A more  than  usually 
heavy  burst  of  sound  from  the  scene  of  battle  drew  his 
eyes  in  that  direction,  and  there  in  full  view,  rounding 
the  point  of  the  island  that  Asuga  had  pointed  out,  came 
a fleet  of  small  boats  and  junks,  propelled  by  oars,  while 
the  government  troops  appeared  simultaneously  upon  the 


7 6 Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


land,  firing  into  the  boats  of  the  Christians,  that  seemed 
to  be  densely  crowded  with  persons  of  all  ages  and  of 
both  sexes.  Thus  far  it  had  been  impossible  for  the 
insurgents  to  get  out  of  range  of  the  destructive  fire  of 
their  enemies,  but  now,  as  they  passed  the  island,  upon 
the  southern  point  of  which  rises,  in  our  day,  the  white 
walls  of  a mission  chapel,  they  pushed  out  from  the  shore, 
and  were  soon  beyond  the  reach  of  the  troops.  In  the 
struggle  at  the  place  of  embarkation,  and  in  the  running 
fight  along  the  shore,  nearly  a third  of  their  numbers  had 
fallen,  and  the  spectators  upon  the  deck  of  the  Spuyten 
Dnyvil  saw  the  survivors,  after  they  had  shaken  them- 
selves free  from  their  foes,  steer  out  into  the  open  channel, 
and  there  pause  as  if  for  deliberation. 

General  Hosokawa,  who  had  been  nervously  uneasy 
during  the  few  minutes  that  Van  Neist  and  his  officers 
were  deeply  engrossed  in  watching  the  movements  of  the 
Christians,  now  again  addressed  the  captain.  Asuga, 
interpreting  his  words,  said  that  the  officer  was  awaiting 
with  anxiety  the  captain’s  answer.  Would  he  be  so  kind 
as  to  permit  the  soldiers  to  come  aboard  at  once,  as  the 
danger  was  alarmingly  near. 

Ven  Neist,  though,  no  longer  doubted  but  that  the 
proffered  assistance  was  offered  for  the  reasons  which  the 
officer  alleged,  had  observed  the  good  effect  his  firmness 
had  thus  far  had  upon  the  domineering  spirit  of  Japanese 
officialism,  and  he  resolved  not  to  do  anything  that 
might  look  like  a surrender  of  his  position.  He  therefore 
told  Asuga  to  inform  Hosokawa  that  he  considered  the 
help  of  his  soldiers  unnecessary,  as  his  crew  were  well 
able  to  protect  the  ship  against  any  force  whatsoever  ; 
and  that,  while  thanking  the  governor  for  his  kind  offer, 
he  could  not  allow  his  men  to  come  aboard  the  Spuyten 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


77 


Duyvil.  He  would  promise  the  governor,  however,  that 
the  rebels  would  not  be  allowed  to  seize  the  vessel. 

With  a scowling  face,  Hosokawa  listened  to  Van  Neist’s 
answer,  and,  without  vouchsaving  anything  in  reply,  he 
turned  upon  his  heel  and  left  the  ship,  his  retainers 
sullenly  stalking  after  him.  Asuga,  evidently  fearing  the 
consequences  of  the  captain’s  decision,  begged  leave  to  be 
excused,  saying  that  Heer  Santvoort  would  be  anxiously 
awaiting  his  return  to  learn  how  matters  stood  with  the 
Spuyten  Duyvil. 


V. 

THE  BATTLE. 

As  soon  as  General  Hosokawa  and  the  interpreter 
had  left  the  ship,  Van  Neist  ordered  the  ladder  to  be 
drawn  up,  the  deck  cleared  for  action,  and  the  men  to 
stand  by  their  guns  in  readiness  for  anything  that  might 
happen. 

“ Not  that  I think  that  it  will  come  to  a conflict  between 
us  and  the  insurgents,”  he  remarked  to  Beaumont,  as  the 
two  walked  forward  where  they  could  command  a better 
view  of  affairs  upon  the  water.  “ There  are  soldiers 
enough  in  Hosokawa’s  force  to  compel  the  surrender  of 
that  mob  of  untrained  farmers,  incumbered  with  their 
women  and  children  ; nevertheless,  it’s  well  for  us  to  be 
prepared.” 

“ Do  you  observe  what  they  are  doing  ?”  asked  Beau- 
mont, who  was  intently  regarding  the  Christians. 
“ They  are  putting  their  wounded,  together  with  the 
women  and  children,  in  the  junks,  while  the  able-bodied 
fighting  men  are  taking  to  the  small  boats.” 


7 8 Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ See,  they  are  dropping  their  dead  overboard  !” 

“ There  ! they  are  ready  ! The  whole  force  is  moving 
this  way.” 

“ ’Sdeath  ! They  are  going  to  attack  us  !”  cried  the 
captain.  “Van  Sylt,”  he  shouted  to  his  chief  officer. 
“ Ready  there  ! They  are  moving  down  upon  us. 
Curse  them  !”  he  added  impatiently.  “ I don’t  want  to 
hurt  the  fools.  Why  isn’t  Hosokawa  up  here  with  his 
men  before  this  ?” 

“ He  is  getting  his  forces  into  position,”  answered  Beau- 
mont, glancing  towards  the  government  troops.  “ It 
seems  as  if  he  has  some  trouble  ; now  it  is  all  right — but 
no,  they  have  stopped  again.” 

“ A plague  upon  him  !”  shouted  the  captain,  furiously. 
“ The  insurgents  will  be  swarming  about  the  ship  before 
the  fellow  gets  in  motion.  Van  Sylt,  give  those  boats 
a broadside,  and  let  every  man  fire  his  musket.  Fire  low 
so  as  to  strike  the  water  just  in  front  of  them.  I don’t 
wish  to  kill  them,”  he  added,  speaking  to  the  young 
Englishman.  “ And,  perhaps,  when  they  see  that  we  are 
armed  and  ready  to  resist  them,  they  will  hold  off.” 
Scarcely  had  Van  Neist  stopped  speaking,  when  the  air 
was  rent  with  the  mingled  roar  of  cannon  and  the  crash 
of  musketry,  and  the  water  just  before  the  advancing 
Christians  was  torn  into  foam.  One  boat  had  been 
struck  in  the  bow,  and  it  quickly  filled  and  capsized,  but 
there  was  no  evidence  that  any  lives  had  been  lost.  As 
the  smoke  rolled  away  the  crews  of  the  other  boats  were 
seen  busily  engaged  in  picking  up  their  friends,  who  were 
struggling  in  the  water. 

“ Finely  done  !”  exclaimed  Beaumont,  as  he  saw  the 
effect  of  the  shot.  “That  delay  will  be  sufficient  to 
enable  Hosokawa  to  bring  up  his  men.” 

“Yes;  and  our  hands  will  be  clean  of  blood,”  re- 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  79 

turned  the  captain.  “ This  is  going  to  be  an  ugly  piece 
of  business  before  it  is  over  with,  and  I wish  to  have 
nothing  to  do  with  it.” 

Beaumont’s  prediction  proved  to  be  a correct  one.  The 
Christians  spent  considerable  time  in  picking  up  their 
men,  but  n6  sooner  was  this  done  than,  with  a fierce 
shout,  they  dashed  their  boats  forward  toward  the  Spuyten 
Duyvil.  They  had  just  perceived  Hosokawa’s  force 
and  they  seemed  to  realize  that  all  depended  upon 
their  reaching  the  ship  before  their  foes.  But  the  govern- 
ment troops  were  now  urging  their  sampans  at  full  speed 
through  the  water,  and,  though  they  had  the  greater  dis- 
tance to  traverse,  their  boats  were  superior  to  those  of 
the  Christians  and  better  manned  with  rowers. 

The  heaver  craft  of  the  insurgents,  conveying  the 
wounded,  together  with  the  old  men  and  women  and 
children,  were  now  seen  to  turn  into  Takaboka,  where  a 
large  number  of  people  poured  out  upon  the  beach  from 
the  junks  and  began  swarming  up  the  sloping  side  of  the 
bluff  from  the  northern  shore  of  the  island,  until  they 
reached  the  summit,  where  they  gathered  in  thick,  black 
clusters  watching  the  movements  of  their  friends  and 
foes  on  the  water  below. 

The  men  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  were  likewise  in- 
tently gazing  upon  the  exciting  spectacle.  Nearer  and 
nearer  came  the  insurgents,  the  water  furrowed  into  foam 
by  their  rushing  boats,  the  click  of  their  oars  ringing  out 
fast  and  sharp  ; but  still  quicker  came  their  enemies,  and 
when  the  Christians  were  within  a stone’s  cast  of  the  ship, 
five  or  six  of  Hosokawa’s  boats  shot  in  between  it  and 
them.  In  another  instant  the  foremost  sampans  of  both 
parties  clashed  together,  and  the  men,  standing  up  in  their 
boats,  engaged  in  a sanguinary  hand-to-hand  struggle. 

The  impetuosity  of  the  charge  of  the  Christians  and 


8o  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


their  desperate  valor  for  a time  carried  everything  before 
them,  and  the  government  troops,  despite  their  overpower- 
ing numbers  and  savage  bravery,  were  hurled  back  to- 
ward the  entrance  to  the  bay,  their  boats  driven  one  upon 
another,  and  the  water  filled  with  struggling  men.  Then, 
rallying  at  the  call  of  their  leaders,  they,  in  turn,  crowded 
the  insurgents  slowly  backward  towards  the  Spuyten 
Duyvil , until  the  struggle  was  raging  by  the  very  side  of 
the  ship.  The  superior  arms  of  Hosokawa’s  disciplined 
soldiers  now  began  to  tell  upon  the  brave  but  poorly- 
equipped  and  untrained  yeomen  ; and  soon  the  tide  of 
victory  set  in  strongly  upon  their  side.  Beaumont, 
as  he  watched  the  progress  of  the  fight,  was  horrified  at 
the  ferocious  cruelty  of  Hosokavva’s  men.  Even  after 
whole  boat-loads  of  the  Christians  had  cast  aside  their 
arms  and  cried  out  for  mercy  they  were  cut  down,  their 
murderers  hacking  and  mangling  the  still  quivering 
bodies.  He  saw  one  boat,  commanded  by  a fine  appear- 
ing youth  armed  only  with  a club,  fight  its  wray  through 
the  thick  press  of  the  government  troops  to  the  ship’s 
side,  and  the  young  leader,  turning  an  imploring  look  at 
Van  Neist,  who  was  watching  him  from  the  deck,  cried 
out  in  Dutch  : 

/ “ For  the  love  of  Christ,  Heer  Captain,  help  us  ! Are 
you  Christians  and  can  you  see  brethren  butchered  like 
this?  For  God’s  sake — ” 

But  the  sentence  was  never  finished  ; a hostile  sword 
cut  him  down,  and  his  body  was  quickly  hidden  from 
sight  by  the  mangled  corpses  of  his  heroic  companions. 

Sickened  by  the  sight  of  the  brutal  massacre — for  such 
the  struggle  had  become — Beaumont  turned  away  and 
looked  toward  the  rocky  island,  where  the  agonizing 
women  and  children  were  gazing  down  upon  the 
slaughter  of  their  husbands  and  fathers  and  brothers. 


THEY  WERE  ON  THE  EXTREME  EDGE  OF  A LEDGE  OF  ROCK. — See  Page  91. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  83 


Two  or  three  boat-loads  of  fugitives  from  the  fight  were 
hastening  toward  the  island,  and,  in  close  pursuit,  followed 
twice  as  many  of  their  enemies;  and  soon  the  whole  body 
of  Hosokawa’s  men,  having  finished  the  massacre  of  the 
Christians  on  the  water,  with  a fierce  yell  of  triumph, 
turned  their  course  toward  Takaboka. 


VI. 

INE  TANAKA. 

“ The  idolators  are  driving  our  friends  back  against 
the  foreign  ship  ! Alas,  Ine  Tanaka,  the  day  has  gone 
against  us  !” 

“ See,  see  ! they  are  killing  them  all — even  those  who 
have  thrown  down  their  arms  and  are  pleading  for 
mercy  !” 

“And  we,  Ine  Tanaka,  we,  too,  shall  be  murdered  ! 
Woe,  woe  !’’ 

A wild  shriek  of  terror  went  up  from  the  group  of 
trembling  women  as  they  heard  the  words  of  the  last 
speaker,  and  their  pallid,  tear-stained  faces  were  turned, 
in  an  agonizing  appeal  toward  the  tall,  queenly  figure  of 
a young  woman  standing  upon  a rock  that  rose  up  out  of 
the  plateau-like  top  of  Takaboka  : 

“ Ine  Tanaka,  Ine  Tanaka,”  rose  their  wailing  chorus, 
“ What  sayest  thou  ? Is  there  no  hope  ? Must  we  per- 
ish ?” 

The  woman  thus  addressed  looked  down  into  the  terri- 
fied eyes  of  the  people  below  her,  and  her  face,  superbly 
beautiful  despite  its  present  death-like  pallor,  bore  an 
expression  of  inexpressible  tenderness  and  pity.  The  vast 
throng  of  aged  men,  women  and  children,  gathered  more 


84  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


closely  around  the  foot  of  the  rock  upon  which  she  stood, 
and  bent  forward  in  breathless  anxiety  to  hear  her  answer. 
Clear  and  firm,  thrilling  with  a holy  fervor,  and  awful  in 
its  solemn  calmness,  rose  the  woman’s  voice: 
f “ Yea,  friends,  we  shall  perish.  Vain  were  it  to  hope 
for  mercy  from  yonder  infidel  ; sinful  would  it  be  to 
desire  it.  We  shall  be  slain,  but  let  not  that  dismay  us. 
Blessed  are  they  that  die  in  the  Lord.  God,  in  his  infi- 
nite goodness,  permits  our  blood  to  be  shed  that  the  right- 
eousness of  our  cause  may  be  the  more  firmly  established. 
But  we,  O my  friends,  we  but  exchange  earth  for  Para- 
dise, sorrow  for  rejoicing,  a cross  for  a crown.” 

Some  one  who  had  been  looking  in  the  direction  of  the 
Spuyten  Duyvil , now  cried  out : 

“Merciful  Mother  ! The  soldiers  are  coming  !”  and  a 
low  shuddering  wail  rose  from  the  lips  of  the  hundreds 
gathered  on  the  summit  of  the  rocky  islet,  as  they  realized 
the  nearness  of  their  doom. 

Ine  Tanaka  had  turned  and  was  also  looking  down 
upon  the  water,  and,  as  her  gaze  rested  for  a moment  on 
the  scene  of  the  now  finished  massacre,  a look  of  terrible 
anguish  swept  over  her  fair  face  : 

“ O my  brother,”  she  murmured,  with  a quick,  hard 
sob,  “ Would  that  we  might  have  died  together!  My 
brother,  my  brother  !” 

Then  regaining  her  composure,  the  woman  descended 
from  the  rock,  and,  passing  among  the  terror-maddened 
people,  she  exhorted  them  to  fidelity  to  their  faith  and  to 
fortitude  in  the  trying  ordeal  just  before  them  ; and  the 
resolute  firmness  of  her  own  bearing  and  the  expression 
of  heavenly  peace  that  rested  upon  her  beautiful  features 
inspired,  as  much  as  did  her  comforting  words,  a like 
firmness  and  resignation  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  looked 
upon  her.  Even  in  the  midst  of  their  agony  of  fear,  there 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  85 


were  those  to  whom  she  was  a stranger  who  gazed  after 
her,  as  she  passed  away  from  their  side,  and  wondered 
who  this  angel  of  consolation,  so  forgetful  of  self,  so 
brave,  so  calmly  possessed,  might  be. 

“ Knowest  thou,  Kane,  who  she  is  that  just  now  spoke 
to  us  so  tenderly  ?”  asked  a sad-eyed  woman,  whose  hus- 
band and  son  had  perished  in  the  massacre  on  the  water. 

“ Nay,  nay,  I never  saw  her  until  last  night  when  she  and 
her  brother  came  from  Shimabara  to  warn  us  to  fly  to 
Arima,”  returned  the  woman  spoken  to,  lifting  a wild 
terrified  face  upon  her  questioner.  “And,  Blessed 
Mother,  would  that  we  had  never  seen  either  of  them  !” 
she  continued,  sobbing  bitterly,  “ It  was  they  who  urged 
us  to  rise  in  revolt  against  the  governor.  Had  it  not 
been  for  them  we  should  still  be  safe — ’’ 

“ Hush,  Kane,  hush  !”  interrupted  her  companion, 
“ yield  not  to  temptation,  dear  sister.  In  the  very  shadow 
of  death,  with  our  eternal  reward  in  sight,  let  not  Satan 
rob  thee  of  thy  soul  ! The  infidel  were  already  on  our 
track,  the  governor  had  ordered  his  officers  to  seize  us. 
Lay  not  our  destruction,  then,  upon  the  heads  rf  those 
who  risked  their  own  lives  to  save  ours,  and  who  are  now 
dying  with  us  !” 

An  old  man  standing  by  had  heard  the  conversation  of 
the  two  women.  His  dim  eyes  sought  the  face  of  the  last 
speaker,  and  his  tranquil  features  lit  up  with  an  approv- 
ing smile  as  he  listened  to  her  words  : 

“ Well-spoken,  woman,”  he  said,  in  a low,  calm  voice, 
“honor  and  praise  to  those  to  whom  honor  and  praise  are 
due  ! Yet  I marvel  that  thou  knowest  not  Ine  Tanaka  ; 
hast  thou,  then,  never  heard  of  Nirado  Shiro  ?” 

“Yes,  yes,  we  have  !”  cried  the  two  women  in  unison, 
both  turning  an  interested  look  upon  the  old  man  ; and 
the  woman  called  Kane  added  : “ He  it  is  who  shall  yet 


86  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


return  to  Japan  to  deliver  the  church  from  the  power  of 
the  infidel.” 

“Even  so,  friend,”  responded  their  companion.  “Our 
divinely  appointed  deliverer  he  is,  the  first  Christian 
ruler  of  our  nation  he  shall  be  ; and  Ine  Tanaka  was  to 
have  been  his  wife.  In  childhood  did  their  parents 
betroth  them,  the  good  Father  Paoli  approving  and  bless- 
ing the  union.  Alas,  now — ” 

The  old  man’s  words  were  here  drowned  in  the  loud  cry 
that  rose  from  those  about  him.  Through  the  grove  that 
covered  the  sloping  side  of  the  hill  to  the  northward  the 
Christian  fugitives  from  the  fight  upon  the  water  were 
seen  hastening  up  the  steep  ascent,  and  after  them,  in 
close  pursuit,  came  hundreds  of  their  savage  foes.  In  a 
minute  more,  the  foremost  fugitive — a young  man  armed 
only  with  a short  lance — had  reached  the  summit,  and 
Ine  Tanaka,  with  a wild,  joyful  cry  had  dashed  through 
the  thick  press  to  the  place  where  he  stood. 

“Ine,  Ine  ! O my  sister  !”  and  the  strong  arms  of  the 
youth  gathered  the  woman  to  his  breast. 

“ Mother  of  Mercy  ! I thank  thee  for  this  ! O my 
brother  ! Long  have  we  labored  together,  now  shall  we 
die  together  ! I am  content.” 

“ It  was  for  that, dear  sister,  that  I fled  hither  as  soon 
as  I saw  there  was  no  hope  for  us.  Be  strong,  my  noble, 
faithful  Ine  ! it  will  soon  be  over;  lean  upon  me  ; they 
come  !” 

A cloud  seemed  suddenly  to  pass  before  Ine  Tanaka’s 
eyes,  and  her  ears  were  filled  with  a sound  like  the 
roaring  of  a mighty  storm  in  a forest.  She  saw  the 
terrified  faces  of  the  Christians  around  her,  but  they 
appeared  to  be  half-hidden  in  a blood-red  haze  ; she 
beheld  Hosokawa’s  savage  warriors  as  they  gained  the 
plateau,  and  witli  their  naked  swords  dashed  upon  their 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  87 


trembling  victims,  but  their  stature  seemed  to  be  twice 
the  stature  of  men,  and  their  faces  shone  out  of  the  all- 
pervading  mist,  shadowy  and  ill-defined,  yet  fierce  and 
unspeakably  cruel.  Then  she  was  dimly  conscious  of 
the  horror  of  a pitiless  massacre — infants  tossed  into  the 
air  and  caught  on  spear-points,  human  fiends  trampling 
and  leaping  upon  the  breasts  of  gray-haired  sires  and 
grand-dames,  mothers,  youths  and  young  girls  hurled 
shrieking  from  the  high  cliff  into  the  sea,  and  the  many- 
voiced wailings  of  the  terror-stricken  and  the  dying 
sounded  to  the  ears  of  the  dazed,  half-unconscious  woman 
like  the  chirping  of  frightened  birds  in  a storm.  She 
felt  that  they  were  being  driven  backward — she  and  this 
strong,  heroic  brother,  whose  left  arm  encircled  her  waist 
and  whose  right  hand  made  the  keen-pointed  lance  a 
shield  for  the  breasts  of  both. 

On  the  very  brink  of  the  precipice  they  paused,  and 
while  the  mists  that  had  clouded  the  vision  of  the  faint- 
ing Ine  seemed  at  length  to  be  darkening  into  utter 
blackness,  she  was  conscious  of  a tall,  terrible  form  that 
suddenly  rose  up  out  of  the  gloom  behind  them,  and  one 
wild,  piercing  shriek  of  terror  pealed  from  her  lips  as 
she  saw  her  brother  sink  beneath  the  swiftly  descending 
sword.  The  awful  sight  roused  her  into  a momentary 
possession  of  full  consciousness  ; she  beheld  the  lifeless 
body  at  her  feet,  the  ruthless  murderer  at  her  side.  Then 
she  dashed  herself  against  the  soldier,  and,  before  he 
could  recover  himself,  she  had  seized  his  arm  in  a vise- 
like grasp.  A loud  cry  of  terrified  amazement  broke 
from  the  man’s  lips  as  he  realized  the  peril  of  his  situation. 
For  an  instant  the  two  swayed  back  and  forth  upon  the 
brink  of  the  precipice,  and  then,  Ine  Tanaka,  putting 
forth  all  her  failing  strength  in  a final  effort,  sprang  out, 
dragging  with  her  the  murderer  of  her  brother. 


BOOK  THIRD. 


BISHOP  PAOLI  AND  NIRADO  SHIRO  BEGIN  THEIR 
LABORS. 


IN  THE  STORM  AMONG  THE  DEAD. 

HE  STORM  that  had  been  all  day 
gathering  in  the  west  burst  at 
night-fall  in  full  fury  over  sea 
and  land.  Long  before  it  came, 
fitful,  eddying  gusts,  sweeping 
over  the  face  of  the  water,  and 
marking  their  paths  with  bro- 
ken lines  of  foam,  heralded  its 
approach.  Van  Neist,  watching 
his  chance,  weighed  anchor,  and  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  glided 
swiftly  amid  the  gathering  blackness  through  the  entrance 
to  the  harbor,  casting  her  anchor  again  far  up  the  bay 
before  the  city,  where  she  would  be  safely  sheltered  from 
the  fury  of  the  coming  gale. 

These  fierce  storms,  called  typhoons,  so  frequent  in 
the  eastern  seas,  are  usually  accompanied  by  rain,  though 
seldom  by  thunder  and  lightning.  The  wind  blows  in 
fierce  gusts,  and  the  rain  is  driven  forward  in  almost 
horizontal  lines,  the  roofs  of  houses  are  wrenched 
off,  forests  upturned,  junks  and  the  smaller  sailing 
craft,  destroyed,  and  the  largest  ocean  steamships  im- 
L88J 


Pa  oil ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  89 


periled  by  the  mountainous  waves  that  are  heaped  up 
and  driven  hither  and  thither  by  the  mad  fury  of  the 
wind.  The  staunch-built  ships  of  our  day  are  generally 
able  to  outride  the  storm,  provided  they  are  not  caught 
too  near  land  and  driven  ashore  ; but  in  the  early  days 
of  European  commerce  in  the  East,  shipwrecks  were 
terribly  frequent — so  frequent,  indeed,  that  it  was  con- 
sidered a fortunate  expedition  if  more  than  four  ships 
out  of  a fleet  of  twelve  returned  from  Japan. 

In  the  gathering  gloom  that  fell  upon  sea  and  land, 
like  a shadow  from  the  coming  tempest,  a small  Japanese 
boat  might  have  been  seen,  on  the  evening  of  which  we 
are  speaking,  crossing  the  narrow  strait  of  water  lying 
between  Takaboka  and  a little  island  nearer  the  main- 
land, called  Nedzumi-shima,  or  Rat  Island.  There 
were  two  men  at  the  oars,  and  they  often  cast  anxious 
glances  toward  the  fast  approaching  storm,  and  then 
would  measure  with  their  eyes  the  distance  yet  to  be 
traversed  before  they  reached  the  opposite  beach. 

“Faster,  a little  faster!”  whispered  the  taller  of  the 
two.  “The  storm  is  at  hand,  and,  once  upon  us,  it  will 
be  impossible  to  make  headway  against  it.” 

The  two  men  bent  to  their  oars  with  redoubled  effort  ; 
but  the  wind  was  already  strong  against  them,  and,  de- 
spite their  most  heroic  labors,  they  made  but  slow 
progress.  They  rowed  on  in  silence  for  a time,  and  then 
the  younger  man  spoke  : 

“ Do  you  think  we  will  find  any  alive  ? and  do  you 
believe  that  we  are  safe  in  thus  exposing  ourselves  ? It 
is  not  yet  wholly  dark  ; we  could  still  be  seen  from  that 
hill  where  we  last  saw  the  soldiers  who  pursued  our  poor 
friends  along  the  shore.” 

“ Do  not  fear  !”  his  companion  returned.  “ They  did 
their  work  too  hastily  to  have  killed  them  all  outright. 


go  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


We  are  safe.  God  is  throwing  around  us  the  shelter  of 
his  storm,  which  our  enemies  will  not  dare  to  face.” 

“ I am  almost  exhausted,”  panted  the  other.  “ But  we 
are  nearly  there.” 

A fierce  blast,  accompanied  by  a heavy  dash  of  rain, 
announced  that  the  typhoon  had  at  last  burst  upon  them. 
The  moaning  of  the  sea,  that  had  for  some  time  been 
growing  louder  and  more  fearful,  now  changed  into  an 
angry  hiss,  and  this  again  was  quickly  followed  by  the 
crashing  and  booming  of  the  breakers  upon  the  rocks  on 
the  other  side  of  the  island.  The  two  men  labored 
frantically  at  their  oars,  and,  with  an  almost  superhuman 
effort,  they  succeeded  in  running  their  boat  upon  the 
beach.  Hastily  drawing  it  up  upon  the  sand,  out  of  the 
reach  of  the  waves,  Bishop  Paoli  and  Shiro,  for  they  it 
was,  turned  and  began  to  feel  their  way  through  the 
dense  darkness,  that  had  now  settled  down  upon  them, 
along  the  shore  to  the  southward  in  the  direction  of  the 
place  where  they  knew  the  bodies  of  the  slaughtered 
Christians  must  be  lying. 

“ The  roar  ot  the  storm  is  so  deafening,”  shouted  Shiro 
in  the  ear  of  his  companion,  “ that  we  could  not  hear  any 
cry  for  help.  We  are  risking  our  own  lives,  and,  I fear, 
to  no  purpose.” 

“ Mother  of  God  !”  cried  the  bishop,  as  a terrific  gust 
swept  past  them,  deluging  them  with  the  spray  that  it 
had  torn  from  the  waves  ; “ I verily  thought  it  would 
loose  my  hold  upon  the  rock  and  carry  me  away  !” 

“We  can  go  no  further,”  called  out  Shiro,  who  was  a 
few  feet  in  advance  ; we  have  reached  the  end  of  the 
ledge  of  rocks.  I can  feel  only  the  perpendicular  face  of 
the  cliff  to  our  right,  while  to  our  left  and  in  front  1 hear 
the  rush  of  water.” 

Just  as  he  spoke,  there  happened  one  of  those  rare  oc- 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


91 


currences  in  connection  with  a typhoon.  A blinding 
flash  of  lightning  flamed  across  the  sky,  illuminating  the 
whole  scene,  and  revealing  to  the  two  men  a spectacle 
that  neither  of  them  could  ever  afterwards  forget.  Shiro 
had  been  right  in  his  conjecture.  They  were  on  the 
extreme  end  of  a ledge  of  rock  skirting  the  base  of  the 
cliff.  Right  before  them  the  sea  had  made  a large  in- 
denture in  the  land,  forming  a sheltered  cove,  dry  at  low 
water  but  submerged  at  high  tide  or  when  a storm,  like 
the  present,  drove  the  sea  in  upon  the  shore. 

It  had  been  from  the  rocks,  overhanging  this  cove,  that 
hundreds  of  the  victims  of  the  massacre  had  been  flung, 
and  their  mangled  bodies  had  been  heaped  up  upon  the 
bare  rocks.  The  storm  and  the  incoming  tide  had  now 
flooded  the  place,  and  Paoli  and  Shiro,  clinging  to  the 
side  of  the  cliff,  just  out  of  reach  of  the  waves,  saw  before 
them,  in  the  dazzling  gleam  of  the  lightning,  a vast  caul- 
dron of  eddying,  boiling,  surging  waters,  foaming  and 
hissing,  ever  rushing  outward  as  if  to  escape  into  the 
open  deep,  and  always  hurled  back  by  the  mad,  white- 
crested  breakers  pouring  in  from  the  sea.  In  the  midst 
of  this  seething  abyss  of  waters  gleamed  out  the  pale 
faces  and  stark  forms  of  the  hundreds  who  there  that 
day  had  met  their  death,  their  bodies  now  the  prey  of 
the  angry  surges  that  dashed  them  hither  and  thither  in 
their  fierce  eddying  currents. 

With  the  lightning’s  flash,  the  terrible  sight  blasted 
the  eyes  of  the  two  beholders,  and  with  the  expiring 
gleam  it  again  vanished  into  the  blackness  of  the  storm. 
Shuddering  at  what  they  had  just  beheld,  Paoli  and  Shi- 
ro clung  to  the  rock,  while  a gust  of  wind,  fiercer  than 
any  that  had  preceded  it,  rolled  a heavy  wave  up  to  their 
very  feet. 

“We  must  get  out  of  here!”  shouted  the  bishop,  as 


92  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries . 


soon  as  there  came  a momentary  lull  in  the  uproar. 
“ Another  such  a breaker  may  wash  us  off  the  rock — back, 
Shiro,  back  ! I hear  it  coming  ! back  !” 

With  a bound  the  two  men  plunged  backward  through 
the  darkness.  And  none  too  soon  ; for,  with  a deafen- 
ing crash,  a huge  wave  dashed  itself  against  the  cliff  at 
the  very  point  where,  a minute  before,  they  had  been 
clinging.  Again  the  lightning  glared  out. 

“This  way,”  the  bishop  called  to  his  companion. 
“Here  seems  to  be  an  opening  in  the  rocks  that  may 
afford  us  a shelter  from  the  storm.  Here,  stand  by  me, 
and  let  us  wait  for  another  flash.” 

“It  is  useless  for  us  to  continue  our  search  any  fur- 
ther,” said  Shiro,  as  he  and  Paoli,  holding  each  other’s 
hand  for  the  greater  safety,  pressed  close  to  the  face  of 
the  cliff.  “ We  shall  not  be  able  to  find  any  alive.  Those 
who  might  possibly  have  survived  their  fall,  have  long 
ere  this  been  drowned  in  the  waves,  and,  even  if  some 
are  beyond  reach  of  the  sea,  they  cannot  live  exposed  to 
such  a storm  as  this.” 

“ I fear  not,”  sadly  replied  the  bishop.  “ I had  hoped 
that  we  might  come  across  some  one  who  could  have 
informed  us  of  the  whereabouts  of  our  friends,  and  how 
things  stand  with  our  cause.  But  there  is  a flash,  look 
quickly  under  the  rock,  Shiro  ! What  did  you  see  ?" 

“A  cave!  good  father  bishop,”  cried  the  young  man 
excitedly.  “And  I fancied  I saw  a woman  sitting  at  the 
farther  end.  Wait,  I shall  call,”  he  added,  and  bowing 
down,  he  shouted  into  the  opening  he  had  discovered  : 
“ Fear  not,  we  are  Christians  ! Who  art  thou  ?” 

“A  servant  of  the  Lord,”  came  back  the  clearly  spoken 


res  onse. 


95 


Paoli  : the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


II. 

THE  STORY  OF  A CHURCH  MILITANT. 

With  a simultaneous  cry  of  joy  the  two  men  hastened 
to  enter  the  little  cavern.  As  they  did  so,  another  flash 
of  lightning  lit  up  the  woman’s  face,  and  Shiro,  seizing 
Paoli’s  arm  as  if  to  support  himself  from  falling,  cried 
out  to  his  companion: 

“Good  father,  it  is  Ine  Tanaka  !” 

“Ine  Tanaka  !”  cried  the  bishop  in  turn,  “ she  upon 
whom  I bestowed  the  baptismal  name  of  Phebe,  your 
betrothed  wife ! Impossible.” 

“It  is  she  ! It  is  she  !”  returned  the  other,  confidently. 
“You  remember  her  portrait,  which  the  good  Father  De 
Castro  painted  and  sent  to  me  ? She  who  sat  for  that 
portrait  is  here  before  us  in  this  cave.” 

The  woman  heard  the  conversation  of  the  two  men  ; a 
low  cry  broke  from  her  lips. 

“Speak  quickly,” she  cried,  in  a voice  trembling  with 
intense  emotion,  no  less  than  with  physical  pain  and 
weakness.  “In  the  name  of  our  Lord,  speak  quickly! 
Only  two  men  upon  the  whole  earth  could  speak  of  me 
as  ye  have  spoken — Father  Francesco  Paoli  and  Nirado 
Shiro.” 

“And  we  are  they,”  returned  Paoli,  joyfully.  “Then, 
indeed,  Shiro  is  not  mistaken.  Thou  art  none  other  than 
Ine  Tanaka.” 

The  womau  made  no  reply  ; she  was  weeping  for  very 
happiness.  In  silence  the  men  waited  ; the  bishop  kneel- 
ing on  the  rocky  floor  of  the  cavern,  breathed  forth  a 
fervent  prayer  of  thanksgiving. 

At  length  Ine  spoke  : 


94  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  M issionaries. 


“ And  yet  I live  ! Joy  does  not  kill  ! The  hour  to  which 
thy  suffering  church,  O God,  has  for  so  long  looked  for- 
ward has  come  ! Thou  hast  answered  the  prayers  of  thy 
people  ! Shiro,  Thy  appointed  messenger  of  deliverance 
is  here.” 

She  spoke  as  if  the  effort  gave  her  pain  ; she  paused  for 
a moment  to  gather  strength,  and  then,  with  a pitiful  wail, 
she  continued  : 

“Ah,  but  I am  dreaming,  dreaming  ! I am  bruised  and 
wounded,  faint  and  sick  at  heart  with  what  I have  seen 
and  suffered,  and  the  delirium  of  fever  is  upon  me ! 
the  voices,  methought  I heard,  were  but  the  mocking 
delusions  that  haunt  the  maniac.  Speak  to  me  again,  if 
flesh  and  blood  ye  are  ! reach  forth  thine  hand,  Nirado 
Shiro,  and  touch  me!  Tell  me  again  that  it  is  thou  and 
that  thou  hast  come  back  to  thy  brethren,  and  to  me!” 

“It  is  indeed  I,  dearest  Ine,”  answered  the  young  man, 
his  voice  choked  and  husky  with  the  emotions  he  strove 
vainly  to  suppress.  “ I have  come  back  to  thee,  never  to 
leave  thee  again.  I have  come  back  to  my  brethren,  to 
stand  by  their  side  until  God  giveth  us  the  victory  over 
our  foes.” 

Another  flash  of  lightning  illuminated  the  little  cavern 
and  springing  forward,  Shiro  clasped  the  wounded 
women  gently  in  his  arms.  She  was  cold  and  trembling 
with  weakness  from  loss  of  blood. 

“Merciful  Heaven  !”  cried  Shiro,  aghast.  “ Thy  hands 
are  cold  as  those  of  the  dead,  and  is  this  blood  that  I feel 
upon  thy  arms?  Thou  art  sorely  hurt  I fear.” 

“I  know  not,”  replied  Ine,  faintly.  And  the  woman 
proceeded  to  tell  the  two  men  how  she  had  avenged  the 
murder  her  brother  and,  in  conclusion,  she  said  : “ I must 
have  lain  out  there  unconscious  for  hours.  The  rain 
beating  upon  my  face  revived  me,  and,  creeping  on  my 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries . 95 


hands  and  knees,  I,  by  chance,  found  the  entrance  to  this 
little  cave.  I came  in  here  and  laid  myself  down  to  rest 
or  to  die,  as  God  might  will.  Your  voices  aroused  me, 
and  you  know  the  rest.” 

“ Heaven  be  praised  for  such  heroism  as  thine,”  cried 
the  bishop  fervently. 

“Another  Judith,  thou  has  been  God’s  instrument  of 
vengeance  upon  another  Holofernes.” 

“ Nay,  speak  not  of  it,  good  father,”  the  woman  rejoined, 
“yet  the  Lord  did  strengthen  my  heart  and  arm  to  smite 
His  enemy.  The  soldier  lies  lifeless  out  yonder.” 

Again  the  lightning  blazed  out  through  the  darkness, 
and  Paoli  and  Shiro  saw  the  pale  face  of  the  woman 
turned  eagerly  towards  them  as  she  strove  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  their  features  in  the  passing  flash. 

“Thou  art  disguised,  good  father,”  she  said,  as  the 
darkness  again  fell  upon  them.  “ Thou  art  disguised  as 
a Japanese,  but  I recognized  thy  face,  notwithstanding.” 
“ Let  us  hope,  daughter,  that  the  eyes  of  strangers 
may  not  prove  so  keen  as  thine.  But  rest,  Ine,  rest. 
Thou  art  exerting  thyself  too  much,  I fear.” 

“ Nay,  not  so.  It  is  balm  to  my  wounds  to  hear  thee 
speak.  Thy  words  strengthen  me.  Tell  me,  good  father, 
how  you  came  to  Japan.” 

In  reply,  the  bishop  narrated  the  story  which  the  reader 
is  already  acquainted  with,  the  woman  listening  with  rapt 
attention. 

“ Tell  us,  dearest  Ine,”  Shiro  now  broke  in,  “ what  has 
thus  far  been  done  for  the  deliverance  of  the  church  ; for 
the  good  Bishop  Paoli  saw  in  his  visions  the  battle  between 
our  brethren  and  their  foes  ; and  he  beheld  the  host  of 
the  idolators  fleeing  before  the  banner  of  the  cross.” 
“The  story  is  one  of  thrilling  triumph  for  the  truth, 
marred  for  the  first  time  by  to-day’s  pitiless  massacre  of 


q6  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


God’s  people,”  Ine  responded.  “ Nearly  a month  ago  the 
Christians  of  Oyane,  in  Amakusa,  gathered  together  one 
Sabbath  morning  to  worship  in  the  house  of  Jimboye, 
where  the  good  Father  Massilla,  before  his  martyrdom, 
had  set  up  the  crucifix  and  a figure  of  the  blessed  Virgin. 
While  our  people  were  engaged  in  their  devotions,  they 
were  surprised  by  the  visit  of  six  armed  officers,  who  said 
that  they  had  been  sent  thither  with  orders  to  destroy  the 
image  of  the  God  of  the  Christians,  and  to  forbid  any 
further  assemblages.  A struggle  ensued,  our  people 
throwing  themselves  between  the  officers  and  the  crucifix 
and  Virgin,  to  defend  these  from  the  touch  of  profane 
hands.  In  their  efforts  to  do  this  a Christian  was  cut 
down  by  the  sword  of  one  of  the  officers,  and  immedi- 
ately our  brethren  attacked  their  foes  with  great  fury, 
slaying  three  of  them,  and  compelling  the  others  to  seek 
safety  in  flight. 

“ When  the  Christians  perceived  that  they  had  shed  the 
blood  of  the  government  officials,  and  that,  consequently, 
not  only  would  this  be  used  by  their  enemies  as  a pretext 
for  a new  persecution,  but  also  that  their  own  lives  would 
pay  the  forfeit,  they  resolved  to  take  up  arms  against 
their  oppressors.  They  therefore  issued  a call  to  all 
the  Christians  of  Amakusa  to  assemble  at  the  village  of 
Oyane,  with  arms  and  munitions  of  war.  The  rulers, 
finding  their  forces  too  few  to  cope  with  our  friends, 
shut  themselves  up  in  Tomioka  castle,  and  dispatched 
messengers  to  the  Prince  of  Karatsu,  begging  for  assist- 
ance. The  prince  himself,  at  the  head  of  one  thousand 
men,  hastened  to  Amakusa. 

“Our  people  saw  the  boats  of  the  Karatsu  men  ap- 
proaching the  coast,  and  they  laid  a trap  for  the  friends 
of  their  enemies.  They  made  signals  for  the  troops  to 
land  at  the  village  of  Muriki,  where  they  prepared  a 


CONFUSED  CLAMOR  OF  VOICES  AROSE  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT  BOAT. — See  l‘au«  103. 


aaJ 

V 


■M 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


99 


great  entertainment  for  the  prince  and  his  followers  in 
the  grounds  of  the  Buddhist  temple.  They  conducted 
themselves  with  so  much  cunning  dissimulation  that  the 
infidel  never  suspected  the  trap  into  which  they  had  fal- 
len. They  ate  and  drank  and  made  merry  until  mid- 
night ; and  then,  piling  up  their  arms  in  the  temple, 
they  sank  into  a drunken  slumber.  Noiselessly  our 
brethren  removed  such  of  the  weapons  as  they  could 
obtain  without  awakening  the  enemy,  and  then,  firing 
the  temple  in  a dozen  places,  they  burst  in  upon  the 
sleeping  troops.  The  advantage  was  all  upon  their 
side,  and  before  those  of  the  Karatsu  men  who  still 
had  arms  could  lay  their  hands  upon  them,  a large  num- 
ber of  their  comrades  were  cut  down.  For  almost  an 
hour  the  fight  raged  with  great  fury  about  the  burning 
temple,  until,  just  as  day  was  breaking,  the  government 
troops  succeeded  in  cutting  their  way  out  of  the  little 
village,  and  began  their  retreat  over  the  country  to 
Tomioka  Castle,  the  Christians  pursuing  them  to  the 
very  gates.” 

“ A glorious  victory  !”  exclaimed-  Shiro. 

“ And  our  people,  daughter  ?”  inquired  Paoli.  “Was 
the  loss  of  life  great  upon  our  side  ?” 

“ Only  fifty  men  killed  and  about  twice  that  number 
wounded,  while  of  the  one  thousand  of  the  enemy 
scarcely  two  hundred  made  their  escape. 

“ Last  week  the  Christians  in  Shimabara  maddened 
beyond  further  endurance  by  the  cruelty  of  Prince 
Matsukura,  and  inspired  by  the  success  of  their  brethren 
across  the  bay  in  Amakusa,  refused  to  pay  their  taxes. 
The  Prince  dispatched  six  hundred  men  to  accompany 
the  tax-gatherers,  with  orders  to  arrest  all  who  refused  to 
pay,  and  to  bring  them  before  him  in  his  castle  in  Shima- 
bara. Night  before  last  this  force  was  surprised  in  one  of 


ioo  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  mountain  passes,  and  cut  to  pieces  by  a body  of 
Christians.” 

“Your  story,  Ine,”  said  Paoli,  “ is  indeed  marvellous 
in  our  ears.  The  future  of  our  cause  is  as  bright  as  are 
the  promises  of  God.  But,  friends,”  he  continued,  rising 
to  as  nearly  a standing  position  as  the  overhanging 
rocks  would  allow,  and  peering  out  into  the  storm,  “we 
are  in  need  of  some  safer  retreat  than  this  little  island 
can  afford  when  daylight  and  a calmer  sea  brings  the 
throng  of  curious  sightseers  from  the  city,  and,  as  soon 
as  possible,  we  must  leave  the  island.” 

III. 

TAKABOKA  AND  VENGEANCE,  IN  THE  NAME  OF  THE  LORD.” 

Bishop  Paoli,  creeping  out  from  under  the  rock  that 
had  sheltered  them,  made  a careful  scrutiny  of  the  sky. 

“ The  storm  will  soon  be  over,”  he  called  back  to  Ine 
and  Shiro.  “ The  stars  are  shining  through  the  rifts  in 
the  clouds,  and  I fancy  I can  see  the  dim  outline  of  the 
mountains  to  the  east.  The  waves  are  still  running  high, 
and  will  continue  to  do  so,  I presume,  for  hours  to  come. 
Dangerous  as  it  seems,  we  must  soon  make  the  attempt 
to  cross  over  to  the  mainland.” 

The  little  party  waited,  however,  until  it  was  nearly 
midnight,  and  then  the  two  men,  gently  lifting  the 
wounded  woman,  bore  her  to  the  place  where  they  had 
left  their  boat  some  hours  before,  the  faint  light  cast  by 
the  stars  enabling  them  to  make  their  way  without  much 
difficulty  over  the  rocks.  Placing  Ine  in  the  little  cabin, 
and  making  her  as  comfortable  as  they  could,  they  pushed 
off. 

Under  the  strong,  steady  strokes  of  Paoli  and  Shiro 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries,  ioi 


their  sampan  made  rapid  progress.  The  wind,  that  had 
now  settled  down  to  merely  a brisk  breeze,  was  in  their 
favor,  and  by  hoisting  the  sail  their  speed  was  greatly 
increased.  When  they  were  about  half  way  across,  Shiro 
suddenly  seized  the  bishop’s  arm  and  said  in  a whisper  : 
“Look  yonder,  good  bishop.  Is  not  that  a boat 
approaching  us  on  our  right  ?” 

Paoli  gazed  intently  for  a moment  in  the  direction 
indicated.  A boat  it  certainly  was.  Its  course  was  at 
right  angles  to  their  own,  and  it  was  heading  toward 
the  city.  As  it  rose  high  on  the  crest  of  a wave,  he 
perceived  that  it  was  full  of  soldiers,  their  polished 
armor  and  long  spears  being  now  distinctly  visible  in  the 
dim  starlight. 

The  two  men  rested  for  a minute  on  their  oars,  closely 
watching  the  hostile  boat.  Then  Shiro  addressed  his 
companion,  speaking  in  a whisper  that  the  wounded 
woman  in  the  little  cabin  might  not  hear  : 

“ They  see  us,  for  look  ! their  faces  are  turned  this  way  ! 
We  cannot  escape  them.  What  shall  we  do  ?” 

Paoli  seemed  not  to  hear  the  words  of  the  younger  man. 
He  spoke  and  his  low,  rapid  voice  was  like  the  voice  of 
one  communing  with  himself  : 

“ Yonder  boat  is  overloaded.  There  are,  at  least,  thirty 
men  in  it,  when  there  ought  not  to  be  more  than  twenty. 
The  three  rowers  are  hardly  able  to  keep  it  afloat  in  this 
heavy  sea.  Moreover,  they  have  no  sail,  and  are  making 
but  slow  progress.” 

“Very  true,”  assented  Shiro,  as  if  the  remark  had  been 
addressed  to  him.  “With  the  wind  in  another  quarter, 
we  could  easily  make  our  escape.” 

The  Jesuit  laid  his  hand  on  the  young  man’s  arm  ; his 
eyes  blazed  with  suppressed  wrath,  but  his  voice  was 
steady  enough  : 


102  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“Who  are  those  soldiers,  Shiro  ? Let  me  tell  you. 
They  are  the  murderers  of  our  brethren.  Shiro,  when 
our  enemies  have  been  placed  in  our  power  shall  we 
allow  them  to  escape  ?” 

“ No  !”  cried  the  other  aloud,  startling  Ine  in  the  little 
cabin.  “ No  ! Yaso-Maria , Takaboka  and  vengeance, 
in  the  name  of  the  Lord  !” 

“What  is  it,  good  father!”  inquired  Ine,  anxiously. 
“What  is  it,  Shiro?  You  have  been  whispering  to- 
gether; there  is  some  danger  threatening  us!  Tell  me 
what  it  is  ?” 

In  a few  words  Shiro  informed  her  of  the  situation. 
“Good  Father  Paoli,  what  do  you  intend  to  do?” 

“ With  God’s  help,  daughter,  we  shall  send  those  mer- 
ciless murderers  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea  !” 

Under  the  brisk  breeze,  the  little  boat,  bearing  the 
bishop’s  party,  was  now  fairly  flying  over  the  heavy  swells, 
shooting  from  the  crest  of  one  wave,  and  falling  with  a 
loud  splash  against  the  rising  bosom  of  the  next.  A short 
distance  ahead,  and  still  a little  to  the  right,  the  larger 
craft,  carrying  the  government  troops,  was  laboring 
slowly  through  the  high  waves  that  continually  threatened 
to  swamp  it.  In  a minute  or  two  more  the  two  boats 
would  cross  each  other’s  course  at  right  angles,  and  a 
collision  seemed  unavoidable.  Standing  by  the  side  of 
the  little  cabin,  Shiro  now  hailed  the  government  boat : 
“ Boat  ahead,  ahoy  ! Who  are  you  ?” 

“ Prince  Kaneko  and  his  retainers!”  came  the  reply. 
“ Where  are  you  from  ?” 

“We  have  been  at  Inasa,  hunting  out  the  rebel  Christ- 
ians. But  beware,  there  ! You’ll  run  us  down  !” 

The  two  boats  were  now  alarmingly  close  together.  A 
sudden  gust  of  wind  dashed  the  Jesuit’s  sampan  forward 
with  furious  speed.  Paoli  stood  erect,  his  tall  form 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  103 


towering  up  in  the  dim  starlight  like  some  avenging 
Nemesis.  The  kindly  expression  that  his  face  habitually 
wore  had  disappeared,  and  a terrible  look  of  vengeful 
hatred  distorted  his  countenance.  Guiding  the  course  of 
his  flying  boat  with  the  long  scull  oar  that  he  held  in  his 
iron  grasp,  his  eyes  never  for  a moment  left  the  fated 
craft  before  him.  He  was  working  his  boat  so  as  to  strike 
the  enemy’s  in  the  middle,  that  he  might  capsize  it. 
Again  Shiro  called  out  : 

“ Have  you  any  prisoner’s  aboard  ?" 

“ No  ! Be  careful  there  ! We  are  overloaded.  Bear 
off  ! bear  off  ! Who  are  you  ?” 

“ Christians  ! and  the  avengers  of  our  murdered  friends  ! 
I am  Paoli,  returned  to  Japan  ! Yaso-Maria,  Takaboka 
and  vengeance,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  !” 

A confused  clamor  of  voices  arose  in  the  government 
boat.  Some  of  the  soldiers  sprang  for  their  arms, 
others  to  the  assistance  of  the  rowers  in  the  vain  attempt 
to  swing  their  craft  around  out  of  the  course  of  the  on- 
coming danger.  In  the  commotion  the  boat  careened 
and  threatened  to  capsize.  At  that  moment,  as  they  sank 
into  the  trough  of  the  sea,  the  sampan  of  the  two  daring 
Christians  appeared  on  the  crest  of  the  wave  above  them. 
For  one  breathless  moment  it  seemed  to  hang  there,  and 
then,  with  a swift  plunge,  it  dashed  down  on  the  over- 
laden and  struggling  craft  below. 

There  was  a crash  of  boat  upon  boat,  mingled  with  a 
cry  of  terror  from  the  soldiers,  and  a shout  of  triumph 
from  Paoli  and  Shiro,  as  they  beheld  the  government 
boat  disappear  beneath  the  waves,  and  saw  the  water 
about  them  filled  with  their  struggling  foes.  In  another 
moment  their  own  sampan  had  righted  itself  and  was 
bearing  them  quickly  away  from  the  scene  of  death. 


104  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


IV. 

AMONG  FRIENDS. 

“ So  perish  all  the  enemies  of  the  Church  of  Japan!” 
exclaimed  Paoli,  looking  back  at  the  place  where  the  en- 
counter had  occurred. 

“Will  not  some  be  able  to  reach  the  shore  ?”Ine  asked. 

“Possibly  the  sendos*  may  swim  to  land,”  replied  Shiro. 
“ They  are  as  you  know  at  home  in  the  water;  but  not 
one  of  the  soldiers  will  escape.  Their  heavy  armor  will 
soon  drag  them  under  in  such  a sea  as  this.” 

“ And  now,”  said  the  bishop,  his  countenance  and  voice 
assuming  their  accustomed  gentleness,  “ we  must  decide 
upon  a place  of  refuge.  There  are  many  Christian  fami- 
lies along  the  shore,  but  we  shall  have  to  exercise  caution 
in  approaching  them  lest  we  arouse  the  suspicions  of  their 
heathen  neighbors.” 

“ Let  me  guide  you,  good  father,”  broke  in  Ine.  “ My 
sister  lives  at  Kayaki,  a little  village  but  a short  distance 
down  the  coast.  Turn  your  course  thither,  and  we  shall 
soon  be  among  friends.” 

In  a short  time  the  sampan  of  the  three  Christians  was 
opposite  the  place  the  woman  had  mentioned,  and  when 
they  had  run  in  near  enough  to  the  land  for  the  eye  to 
distinguish  objects  in  the  faint  starlight,  Ine,  with  Shiro’s 
assistance,  emerged  from  the  cabin  and  closely  scanned 
the  shore  ahead. 

“ There  !”  she  said,  “ to  our  right  you  see  a steep  cliff, 
and  beyond  it  a little  valley  running  down  from  the  hills. 
Put  the  boat  upon  the  beach  at  that  point,  and  we  shall 
be  within  a short  distance  of  the  house  to  which  I shall 
take  you.” 


* boatmen. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  105 


In  the  course  of  a few  minutes  they  were  at  the  place 
indicated,  and  not  very  far  back  from  the  water  a small 
house,  half  hidden  beneath  some  wide-spreading  trees 
was  faintly  discernible.  The  two  men  lifted  Ine  out  of 
the  boat,  and  set  her  upon  her  feet  upon  the  shore,  but 
she  was  unable  to  move. 

“My  limbs  feel  benumbed,’’ she  said,  “and  I am  too 
weak  to  stand.  Ah,  that  terrible  fall  !” 

“We  must  make  haste  and  get  thee  where  thou  canst 
have  rest  and  care,”  said  the  bishop,  “ but  are  you  sure, 
daughter,  that  this  is  indeed  your  sister’s  house  ? And 
are  all  connected  with  the  place  faithful  to  our  cause? 
Remember,  Ine,  there  is  much  at  stake.” 

“ Fear  not  !”  the  woman  replied/'  this  is  the  place,  and 
you  may  depend  upon  all  here.  This  household  has  been 
rich  in  martyrs  for  the  faith.  They  will  shield  us  with 
their  own  lives  if  it  should  be  necessary.” 

“ Then  are  we  fortunate  indeed  ! But  do  you  rest  awhile, 
Ine,  and  Shiro,  you  remain  with  her.  We  must  proceed 
with  the  utmost  caution.  I shall  go  up  to  the  house  and 
reconnoitre.  If  the  family  be  known  to  the  infidel  to  be 
zealous  Christians,  it  may  be  that  the  government  has  set 
a watch  upon  them.  It  will  be  best,  therefore,  to  move 
carefully.” 

When  he  had  said  this,  Bishop  Paoli  crept  stealthily 
away  in  the  direction  of  the  house,  concealing  himself  in 
the  shadow  of  the  trees.  Cautiously  approaching  the 
dwelling,  he  fancied  that  he  heard  the  murmur  of  voices 
from  within.  As  he  stood  listening,  he  saw  a dark  shadow 
flit  along  the  wall  of  the  house.  Paoli  at  once  divined 
the  situation.  “ Some  Christians  have  met  here  to-night 
to  consult  together,”  he  thought,"  and  that  lurking  fellow 
is  a government  spy.” 

Creeping  noiselessly  forward  toward  the  figure  before 


io6  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


him  until  he  was  sufficiently  close,  the  Jesuit  sprang  upon 
the  spy  and  with  a quick  movement,  hurled  him  to  the 
earth,  pinioning  his  arms  across  his  breast  with  one  hand, 
while  with  the  other  he  held  a dagger  at  his  throat.  The 
fellow’s  shriek  of  terrified  surprise  at  being  thus  so  un- 
expectedly assailed,  brought  Shiro  running  from  the  shore, 
fearing  the  bishop  had  been  attacked.  At  the  same  time 
three  or  four  men  rushed  out  of  the  dwelling,  armed  with 
swords,  and  thinking  that  the  two  figures  that  they  saw 
bending  over  the  prostrate  spy  were  enemies  seizing  some 
friend,  they  fell  upon  them  with  drawn  weapons,  and  had 
not  Shiro  shouted  : “ Hold  there,  we  are  friends  ; this 
fellow  is  a government  spy  !”  it  is  hard  to  say  what 
might  have  been  the  result. 

However,  the  men,  now  reinforced  to  the  number  of  a 
dozen  or  more,  quickly  surrounded  the  three  strangers, 
and  thus  making  sure  that  they  had  them  in  their  power, 
seemed  disposed  to  listen. 

“ Will  some  one  bring  a rope  and  help  me  to  bind  this 
fellow?”  panted  the  bishop,  still  holding  on  to  the 
struggling  spy. 

There  was  a moment’s  consultation  among  the  men. 
Then  one  ran  into  the  house  and  brought  forth  the  desired 
rope.  Two  of  the  bystanders  came  forward  and  assisted 
Paoli  and  Shiro  in  securely  binding  the  prisoner.  When 
this  was  done,  the  Jesuit  stood  up  and  spoke  to  the  still 
doubtful  men  : 

“You  are,  apparently,  uncertain  as  to  how  you  should 
receive  us.  My  companion  has  told  you  that  we  are 
friends,  and  so  we  arc.  But  it  is  not  necessary  that  you 
take  our  word  only,  for  there  is  another  person  with  us — 
a young  woman,  whom  some  of  you  know.  You  will  find 
her  down  on  the  beach.  If  the  master  of  the  house  is 
here,  and  will  go  to  her,  he  will  be  rejoiced  to  find  that 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  107 


a friend,  whom  he  thought  was  killed  in  to-day’s  massa- 
cre, is  still  alive,  though  sorely  hurt  and  needing  care.” 

An  exclamation  of  surprise  ran  through  the  group  of 
listeners,  and  after  another  short  consultation  together, 
three  men  started  off  in  the  direction  of  the  beach. 
Soon  those  waiting  at  the  house  heard  a glad  cry  of 
recognition,  and  the  sound  of  voices  in  rapid  conversa- 
tion, and  then  silence  again  ensued.  In  a short  time  the 
men  were  seen  returning,  bearing  Ine  with  them. 

“ Take  her  into  the  house,  Oyama  and  Naro  ; her  sister 
is  mourning  her  as  dead.  Joyful,  indeed,  will  be  their 
meeting  !”  Then,  after  the  two  men  had  disappeared  in 
the  house  with  the  woman,  the  speaker  turned  to  Paoli 
and  Shiro  and  said  heartily  : “ Brethren,  we  welcome 

you  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.  My  sister  did  not  give  me 
your  names,  but  she  said  you  were  Christians  whom  we 
could  trust.  We  thought  at  first  that  you  were  enemies, 
and,  therefore,  we  came  out  against  you  with  swords  in 
our  hands.  In  these  days  of  persecution  and  bloodshed, 
we  must  needs  suspect  every  man  until  he  proves  himself 
a friend  of  the  faith.” 

“ I would  counsel  you,  brethren,”  the  bishop  responded, 
“not  merely  to  suspect,  but  to  watch  as  well.  Had  I not 
chanced  along  just  as  I did,  and  caught  this  fellow  with 
his  ear  glued  to  a chink  in  your  wall,  a few  hours  hence 
might  have  witnessed  an  end  to  your  suspecting  any- 
body.” 

“We  ought,  indeed,  to  have  stationed  sentries,  and 
have  always  done  so  heretofore.  We  thought,  however, 
that  no  one  would  be  out  in  such  a storm  as  was  the  one 
to-night.” 

The  speaker,  who  appeared  to  be  the  master  of  the 
house,  now  gave  some  orders  in  a whisper  to  some  of  the 
men  standing  by,  and  immediately  two  of  them  seized 


io8  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  prisoner  and  dragged  him  into  the  dwelling.  Once 
again  their  host  addressed  the  bishop  and  Shiro. 

“ Pray  come  within,  brethren,  there  are  many  of  our 
people  here  to-night,  and  they  will  be  glad  to  meet  you 
and  to  hear  any  report  you  may  have  for  them.” 

Shiro  shot  a quick  glance  at  Paoli.  The  latter  per- 
ceived it,  and,  as  they  were  passing  in  together  through 
the  open  doorway,  he  whispered  in  Spanish  to  his  com- 
panion : 

“ Prepare,  Shiro,  to  take  thy  place  as  leader  of  our 
brethren.  Sooner  than  we  hoped  for  has  the  time  come.” 

V. 

THE  CAVE-CHAPEL  OF  KAYAKI. 

Once  within  the  house,  Shiro  looked  around  to  see  Ine, 
but  she  was  nowhere  in  sight.  Even  the  men,  who  had 
entered  just  before  them,  had  also  disappeared,  and  evi- 
dently they  had  taken  the  prisoner  with  them.  The 
master  of  the  house  closed  the  door  securely,  and  then 
taking  up  a small  oil-lamp,  asked  the  Jesuit  and  Shiro  to 
follow  him. 

“ Are  you  a Christian,  and  have  you  never  heard  of  the 
cave-chapel  of  Kayaki  ?”  said  he,  in  answer  to  the  ques- 
tioning look  of  the  younger  man. 

“I  have  often  heard  of  it,”  responded  Paoli.  “But  I 
never  suspected  to-night  that  Ine  was  guiding  us  to  it. 
Have  the  enemy,  then,  never  discovered  it  ?” 

“ Our  people  are  faithful  ; for  ten  years  we  have  wor- 
shipped here  in  safety.” 

As  their  guide  spoke,  he  raised  a trap-door  in  the  floor, 
revealing  what  appeared  like  a small  cellar  cut  in  the  solid 
rock.  The  party  descended  into  this,  and  when  the  door 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  109 


above  was  closed,  their  host  applied  his  shoulder  to  one 
of  the  walls  of  the  cellar  and  immediately  the  rock  began 
to  roll  back,  disclosing  a long  passageway  leading  to  the 
entrance  of  a large  cave-chamber  beyond. 

“We  are  having  a conference  to-night,” said  the  guide. 
“ A few  of  us,  however,  were  up  in  the  house  when  that 
fellow’s  shriek  called  us  out.  We  have  been  discussing 
what  course  to  take  in  the  present  state  of  affairs.” 

Neither  the  bishop  nor  Shiro  made  answer  to  this  in- 
formation, for  each  was  too  busy  with  his  own  thoughts. 
Hurrying  along  the  passage,  the  party  soon  emerged  into 
the  chapel,  a large,  lofty  cavern,  fitted  up  with  a high  altar, 
crucifix,  and  other  paraphernalia  of  worship.  The  im- 
mense chamber  was  filled  with  an  assembly  of  men  and 
women.  At  the  entrance  those  who  had  the  captured  spy 
in  custody  were  awaiting  the  coming  of  the  others.  Here, 
too,  in  the  shadow  of  a huge  stalagmite  that  rose  from 
the  floor  of  the  cavern,  the  bishop  and  Shiro  paused: 

“Let  us  wait  here  a moment,”  Paoli  said  ; “andVill 
you,”  he  continued,  addressing  himself  to  three  of  the  men, 
“ take  this  spy  into  some  side-chamber,  and  learn  from  him 
all  you  can?  Listen  !”  he  added,  addressing  Shiro  in  a 
whisper,  “that’s  Ine’s  voice  ; she  is  speaking  to  the  people.” 
The  bishop  and  Shiro  stepped  out  from  behind  the  rock 
.that  concealed  them.  It  was  as  the  former  had  said  : Ine 
was  addressing  the  assembly.  She  had  been  placed  on  a 
high  dais  by  the  side  of  the  altar,  and  half  sitting  on  a 
broad  mat,  and  half  reclining  in  the  arms  of  a woman, 
whom  the  two  men  recognized,  by  the  likeness  of  her 
features  to  those  of  Ine,  to  be  her  sister,  the  wounded 
woman  was  telling  the  listening  people  the  terrible  story 
' of  the  past  day.  As  she  concluded  her  narration  a great 
sob  of  mingled  grief  and  anger  swept  over  the  assembly. 


i io  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ Yaso  Maria  /”  cried  one.  “The  infidel  must  be  made 
to  suffer  for  this  ! Let  us  rise  in  arms  against  them  !’’ 
“Nay,  nay!  What  can  we,  a handful  against  millions, 
do  ?”  interposed  another.  “ Better  to  cling  to  our  faith 
and  to  die,  if  need  be  ; but  never  let  it  be  said  that  the 
Christians  of  Kayaki  rebelled  against  their  rulers.” 

“Friend,  hast  thou  forgotten  so  soon  the  good  Father 
Paoli’s  teachings?”  responded  the  first  speaker.  “Did 
he  not  tell  us  that  the  church  had  the  first  claim  on  our 
obedience,  and  that  it  is  our  duty  to  oppose  and  over- 
throw those  who  deny  her  authority  ? How  much  the 
more,  then,  ought  we  to  rise  up  against  a government 
that  has  leagued  itself  with  hell  for  the  destruction  of 
our  holy  faith  ?” 

“ Ay,  and  to  set  up  Christian  governors  to  rule  over  us 
in  the  places  of  these  confederates  of  Satan,  who  count 
us  but  wild  beasts  to  be  hunted  down  and  butchered  !” 
exclaimed  a third,  springing  to  his  feet.  “ O ! fellow 
Christians  ! would  that  our  good  father,  Francesco 
Paoli,  who  for  so  many  years  was  leader  of  our  cause, 
were  here  to-night !” 

“ And  he  that  is  to  deliver  his  brethren,  and  rule  the 
people  of  his  nation,”  broke  in  a woman’s  voice  from  a 
distant  part  of  the  chapel,  “ Nirado  Shiro,  our  promised 
leader — would  that  he,  too,  were  here  !” 

The  effect  that  the  mention  of  the  names  of  Paoli  and 
Shiro  had  upon  the  people  was  electrical.  Women’s  sobs 
and  prayers  mingled  with  the  deep  murmurs  of  approval 
that  broke  from  the  lips  of  the  men.  The  two  watchers 
by  the  rock  gazed  with  anxious  interest  upon  the  assem- 
bly before  them,  but  their  faces  betrayed  nothing  of  the 
emotions  that  thrilled  their  souls. 

“ We  are  forgetting  Ine,”  said  the  man  who  had  spoken 
first.  Then,  turning  to  the  woman,  he  added  : 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  1 1 1 


“ Perhaps  you  have  still  other  tidings  for  us.” 

Ine  had  caught  sight  of  the  bishop  and  Shiro,  where  they 
stood  by  the  entrance.  Paoli  made  a few  rapid  motions 
with  his  hand,  signifying  that  he  wished  her  to  call  him 
before  the  people.  The  woman  smiled  back  an  assent, 
and  again  addressed  the  people  before  her. 

“ I have,  indeed,  other  tidings  for  you,  dear  friends  ; a 
few  hours  ago  I lay  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff  on  yonder  island. 
Around  me,  thick  as  the  leaves  that  strew  the  earth 
beneath  a winter  forest,  were  the  mangled  bodies  of  the 
Christian  multitude  that  had  been  flung  by  the  savage 
infidel  from  the  heights  above.  Returning  to  conscious- 
ness, I crept  away  from  the  ghastly  scene,  and  sought 
shelter  from  the  storm  in  a little  grotto  beneath  the  over- 
hanging rocks.  Whom  think  ye  Heaven  sent  thither  to 
my  rescue?  Ah,  ye  cannot  guess  ; and  yet  methinks  ye 
can.  It  was  but  a minute  ago  that  I heard  one  of  you 
pronounce  his  name  ; a name  feared  beyond  every  other 
by  the  enemies  of  the  church  ; a name  precious  as  life  to 
the  thousands  who  have  learned  to  call  him  their  father 
in  the  Lord.” 

“Father  Paoli  ! Father  Paoli  !”  was  the  cry  that  burst 
from  the  lips  of  hundreds  throughout  the  assembly. 
“Father  Paoli  hath  returned!  is  now  in  Japan  ! Is  it 
not  so,  Ine  ?”  and  the  excited  people  rose  to  their  feet, 
and  would  have  crowded  around  the  dais  on  which  she 
was  reclining,  had  not  the  young  woman  waved  them 
back  as  she  replied  to  their  eager  questions  : 

“ Be  seated,  I pray  you,  good  friends.  Father  Paoli 
hath  indeed  returned  to  us.  He  was  one  of  the  two  who 
rescued  me  on  the  island  ; he  came  to  Kayaki  in  the  boat 
that  brought  me  hither ; he  is  here  with  you  in  this 
chapel.” 

Before  Ine  had  ceased  speaking,  Paoli  was  standing  on 


1 1 2 Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  dais  by  her  side,  and  as  the  loud,  joyful  cry  of  recog- 
nition which  greeted  him  echoed  through  the  rocky 
recesses  of  the  cavern,  he  stretched  out  his  hands  to  in- 
voke silence,  and  then,  dropping  on  his  knees,  he  broke 
forth  into  prayer.  Into  the  troubled  souls  of  the  now 
kneeling  men  and  women  before  him  the  words  of  his 
supplication  breathed  the  spirit  of  a new  life.  The 
prayer  itself  was  an  impassioned  psalm  of  praise  and 
thanksgiving  for  the  Divine  mercy  and  goodness  that 
had  again  brought  together  the  pastor  and  his  hunted 
flock  ; a trustful  pleading  for  strength  in  the  coming 
hour  of  trial,  for  faith  and  patience  in  the  midst  of  suf- 
fering. 

Without  change  in  attitude  of  body  or  tone  of  voice, 
the  bishop  turned  from  his  prayer  to  Heaven  to  an 
address  to  the  still  kneeling  people. 

“ Dearly  beloved  children,  now  is  not  the  time  for  me 
or  for  you  to  speak  of  the  joy  of  this  reunion.  It  be- 
hooveth  us  to  put  self  aside  and  to  be  up  and  doing  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord.  And  what  we  do  must  be  done 
quickly.  We  are  oppressed  ; we  are  persecuted  ; we  are 
hunted  down  and  slaughtered.  Day  and  night  the  sword 
of  the  pagan  is  reddened  with  the  blood  of  our  brethren. 
The  stake,  the  cross,  the  living  grave,  the  fiery  mouths  of 
volcanoes  have  witnessed  again  and  again  the  dying 
testimony  of  the  Christian  martyr.  The  midnight  sur- 
prise and  massacre  have  blotted  out  whole  villages.  It 
is  counted  an  honor  among  the  idolators  for  a man  to  be 
known  as  one  who  has  slain  his  Christian.  Brethren,  what 
shall  ye  do  ? To-morrow,  or  the  next  day,  or  the  day  fol- 
lowing, your  turn  may  come,  as  to-day  came  the  turn  of 
the  Inasa  Christians.  I bring  you  this  night  the  summons 
to  arm  yourselves,  while  yet  there  is  time  ; to  leave  your 
homes  and  to  flee  for  your  lives  to  the  stronghold  of  our 


DAIS.  AND  WAS  NOW  STANDING  BY  THE  SIDE  OP  PAO u.— /)«  Paye  115 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  115 


brethren  at  Arima.  The  gallant  little  army  that  has 
there  unfurled  the  banner  of  the  Lord  needs  your  assist- 
ance. Fear  not,  our  cause  shall  conquer.  I heard  you 
here  to-night  speak  of  him  who  is  ordained  of  Heaven  to 
be  your  leader  and  deliverer,  the  destroyer  of  your  foes, 
and  the  first  Christian  ruler  of  Japan.  What  if  I should 
tell  you  that  Nirado  Shiro  was  on  his  way  back  to  his 
native  land  ? Would  ye  not  be  armed  and  ready  to  wel- 
come his  return  ? And  what  would  ye  say  if  I told  you 
that  he  was  already  in  Japan  ? Ah,  would  ye  not  hasten 
to  his  side  to  follow  whithersoever  he  might  lead  ? But 
what  will  ye  do  when  I tell  you  that  Nirado  Shiro  is  even 
now  in  Kayaki,  within  sound  of  my  voice,  in  this  very 
chapel,  standing  here  before  you  ?” 

An  indescribable  scene  followed  the  Jesuit’s  closing 
words.  The  people  had  arisen  from  their  kneeling 
posture  ; the  speaker  himself  was  upon  his  feet.  Shiro 
had  stolen  noiselessly  to  the  dais,  and  was  standing 
by  the  side  of  Paoli.  As  soon  as  the  first  moment  of 
breathless  amazement  was  over,  and  the  people  fully 
realized  the  situation,  neither  the  bishop’s  attempts  to 
maintain  order  nor  Shiro’s  shouts  to  them  to  remain 
seated  prevailed  to  curb  the  outburst  of  enthusiastic 
rejoicing  that  took  possession  of  all. 

Paoli  leaned  forward  and,  grasping  Shiro’s  hand,  whis- 
pered : 

“ Said  I not  that  thy  time  had  come  ? But  now  do 
thou  speak  to  the  people,  as  soon  as  quiet  is  restored, 
while  I go  to  discover  what  our  friends  have  learned 
from  the  spy.” 

A considerable  time  elapsed  before  the  excitement  had 
subsided  ; and  Shiro,  as  he  finally  rose  to  speak,  per- 
ceived the  bishop  approaching  him.  At  a signal  from 
Paoli,  Shiro  descended  from  the  dais,  and  the  two  men 


1 1 6 Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


were  engaged  for  a few  minutes  in  a whispered  consul- 
tation by  the  side  of  the  high  altar.  A death-like  silence 
now  pervaded  the  assemblage,  and  every  eye  was  turned 
upon  Paoli  and  Shiro  with  anxious  eagerness.  Soon  the 
young  man  again  ascended  the  dais  and  began  to  har- 
angue the  assembly.  He  dwelt  upon  his  own  divine 
appointment  as  the  chief  who  was  destined  to  lead  his 
brethren  to  victory  over  their  foes,  the  unprovoked  per- 
secution of  the  church  that  was  raging  throughout  the 
nation,  the  present  crisis,  the  necessity  of  a revolution, 
and  the  certainty  of  success.  His  fiery  eloquence  and 
impassioned  earnestness  swept  away  all  opposition  to  an 
open  declaration  of  war.  He  called  upon  those  who  fa- 
vored a revolt  to  rise,  and,  like  one  person,  the  whole 
assemblage  sprang  to  their  feet  amidst  the  wildest  ex- 
citement. 

“And  now,  in  conclusion,”  said  Shiro,  “let  me  tell  you 
what  we  have  just  learned  from  a spy,  whom  the  officials 
sent  hither  to  watch  our  movements.  The  governor  has 
been  seizing  the  Christians  of  Tokitsu,  and  even  now 
more  than  three  hundred  of  them  are  lying  in  the  city 
prisons.  To-morrow  night  it  is  his  purpose  to  burn  and 
crucify  these,  together  with  all  others  that  may  in  the 
meantime  be  discovered.  The  day  of  their  execution  is  to 
be  declared  a public  holiday.  Brethren,  shall  it  be  that 
we  will  stand  tamely  by  and  allow  this  immolation  of 
our  fellow-Christians  to  be  accomplished  ? It  is  in  our 
power  to  raise  a force  strong  enough  to  rescue  our  friends 
and  to  bear  them  off  to  Arima.  Shall  it  not  be  done  ?” 

Again  a loud  shout  of  approval  echoed  through  the 
cavern-chapel,  and  a chorus  of  cries  went  up  from  the 
lips  of  the  assembled  multitude  : 

“ Yaso-Maria  ! To  the  rescue  ! To  the  rescue  ! Woe 
to  the  infidel  !” 


BOOK  FOURTH. 


THE  STRANGE  ADVENTURES  OF  MARMION  BEAU- 
MONT. 


of  Nagasaki.  Not  a cloud  marred  the  deep  blue  of  the  sky, 
not  a breath  of  air  stirred  to  break  the  tranquil  calm  that 
rested  upon  the  town  and  bay  and  encircling  hills.  Both 
foreign  and  native  dwellers  in  the  Nagaski  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  like  their  successors  of  our  own  day,  be- 
lieved that  theirs  was  the  fairest  spot  on  earth.  This  repu- 
tation for  beauty  the  place  has  always  maintained.  With 
a bay  surpassing  the  far  famed  one  of  Naples,  and  equalled 
only  by  that  of  Rio  Janeiro,  and  inclosed  by  towering 
hills,  the  ’ green  loveliness  of  which  sheds  the  charm  of 
perpetual  spring  upon  the  landscape,  her  surroundings 
render  Nagasaki  peerless  for  situation. 


I. 


MYNHEER  VAN  SYLT  HAS  SOMETHING  TO  SAY. 


im&y 

HE  morning  after 
the  storm  dawned 
clear  and  beautiful 


on  the  ancient  city 


t"7] 


1 1 8 Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


So  thought  Marmion  Beaumont,  as  he  stood  on  the  deck 
of  the  Spuyten  Duyvil , this  calm,  bright  morning,  catching 
the  first  rays  of  the  sun  as  it  appeared  above  the  range  of 
hills  east  of  the  city.  The  greater  part  of  the  quaint  old 
town  lay  on  the  northeastern  shore  of  the  bay,  running 
back  into  a broad  valley,  shaped  somewhat  like  a horse- 
shoe. Skirting  the  eastern  boundary  of  this  valley,  and 
a considerable  elevation  above  the  rest  of  the  city,  Beau- 
mont saw  a long  succession  of  temples,  all  apparently  of 
recent  erection.  The  first  officer,  Van  Sylt,  was  just  then 
passing  by,  shouting  out  orders  to  the  seamen  aloft,  who 
were  spreading  out  the  sails  to  dry.  Van  Svlt,  noticing 
that  Beaumont  was  looking  at  the  distant  line  of  temples, 
said  to  him  : 

“You  are  looking  at  those  heathen  temples,  I take  it, 
Mynheer  Beaumont.  Ah,  the  sight  of  them,  sir,  makes 
sore  the  eyes  of  a good  Christian  !”  Here  Van  Sylt  crossed 
himself  devoutly.  “ Why,  Mynheer,  when  I used  to  visit 
Nagasaki  twenty-five  years  ago  there  was  not  a temple  to 
be  seen  in  the  entire  city.  The  place  was  as  much  Chris- 
tian as  any  town  of  like  size  in  Europe.” 

“ The  city,  then,  I take  it,  has  lapsed  into  heathenism,” 
said  Beaumont. 

“Just  so,  sir,”  the  other  replied,  “the  people  that  now 
inhabit  the  city  are  filled  with  the  bitterest  hatred  against 
all  that  savors  of  our  religion.  The  former  Christian 
population  being  entirely  destroyed,  the  government  has 
filled  their  places  with  persons  who  have  distinguished 
themselves  as  successful  oppressors  of  the  hated  foreign 
faith  and  zealous  adherents  of  the  old  paganism  ” 

“ It  is  a terrible  story.” 

“Ay,  ay,  sir,  it’s  the  truth  you  are  saying,  and,  Myn- 
heer, yesterday,  when  that  poor  fellow  fought  his  way  up 
to  us,  and  cried  out  for  us  to  help  them  that  were  Chris- 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  119 


tians  just  like  ourselves,  it  made  my  heart  sick,  sir,  not  to 
be  able  to  do  something  for  them.  It  seems  to  me,  sir,  that 
we  Christian  men  were  worse  than  pagans  to  stand  there 
and  to  see  all  that  slaughtering  of  helpless  folk  go  on 
unhindered.” 

“You  must  remember,”  rejoined  Beaumont,  who,  in 
truth,  felt  in  regard  to  the  matter  not  very  differently 
from  Van  Sylt  himself,  but  considered  it  incumbent  upon 
him  to  speak  otherwise,  “ Master  Van  Sylt,  you  must 
remember  that  Captain  Van  Neist  is  in  the  employ  of  a 
company,  whose  interests  might  have  been  greatly  injured 
by  any  such  rash  procedure  on  his  part.” 

“Perhaps  so,  sir,  perhaps  so,”  and  Beaumont  detected 
a trace  of  impatience  in  the  officer's  voice,  “but,  Myn- 
heer Beaumont,  let  me  tell  you  of  a resolution  that  I have 
made.  Perhaps,  sir,  I was  wrong  in  making  such  a vow 
as  I did  this  morning,  but,  sir,  I could  not  help  it,  and  as 
soon  as  it  was  made  I felt  easier  here  and  the  big  fel- 
low laid  his  large,  brawny  hand  over  his  heart.  “Yes, 
sir,  much  easier.”  Then,  after  a pause,  he  continued  : 
“You  see,  Mynheer,  those  awful  sights  of  yesterday  kept 
coming  back  to  me  all  night,  and  I could  not  sleep.  The 
noise  of  the  wind  seemed  to  my  ears  just  like  the  shrieks 
of  those  poor  women  and  children  we  saw  pitched  from 
that  big  rock  down  there  into  the  sea;  and  then  the 
voice  of  that  youth,  who  called  on  us  Christian  men  to 
help  him,  kept  ringing  in  my  ears  after  the  storm  had 
gone,  and  I saw  his  brave  looking  face  staring  up  at  me, 
just  as  he  looked  yesterday,  when  those  savage  murderers 
cut  him  down.  Well,  sir,  I got  to  thinking  over  the 
matter,  and  I thought  something  began  a-talking  to  me, 
and  it  said  : ‘Van  Sylt,  do  you  think  that  you  took  up 
your  cross  yesterday,  like  a good  Catholic,  when  you 
stood  there  and  saw  the  merciless  idolators  butchering 


120  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


your  brothers  and  sisters  in  Christ?’  I said  nothing  in 
reply,  and  the  voice  went  on  : 

You  were  a coward,  Van  Sylt,  and  not  worthy  the 
name  of  Christian.  It  was  your  duty  to  put  away  all 
thoughts  of  self,  and  taking  your  good  sword,  to  jump 
into  that  youth’s  boat,  and  to  die  fighting  by  his  side.’ 

“ I confess,  sir,  that  the  voice  gave  utterance  to  just 
what  I had  myself  been  thinking  upon  the  subject,  and 
so  I closed  my  eyes  right  there  where  I lay,  and  I said  : 

“ ‘ O,  Lord,  hear  my  petition  and  forgive  my  great  sin  ! 
O,  Christ,  I am  not  worthy  to  be  called  by  Thy  blessed 
name  ! O Holy  Mother,  register  my  vow  in  heaven  ! I 
promise  to  no  more  look  on  and  behold  the  slaughter  or 
persecution  of  Christian  folk  without  interposing  my  life 
in  their  behalf.  So  help  me  God  !’ 

“ Then,  sir,  as  soon  as  I had  made  this  vow,  it  seemed 
as  if  a great  load  was  taken  off  my  heart  ; I heard  those 
terrible  shrieks  and  saw  that  youth’s  pale,  pleading  face 
no  more.  I fell  asleep,  sir,  as  soundly  and  as  sweetly  as 
I used  to  do,  when  a child,  in  my  mother’s  house  at  Rys- 
wick.” 

Beaumont  looked  keenly  at  the  officer  as  he  finished 
his  narration,  and  he  was  fully  convinced  of  the  man’s 
earnestness.  In  his  own  way,  Van  Sylt  was  as  sincere  as 
were  Shiro  and  Paoli,  and  the  Englishman  was  satisfied 
that  if  occasion  should  call  for  the  sacrifice  the  vow  would 
be  kept,  regardless  of  consequences. 

“ Master  Van  Sylt,”  he  said,  earnestly,  “ I trust  you 
counted  well  what  such  a vow  may  possibly  cost  you  ? I 
doubt  not  but  that  before  the  Spuyten  Dtiyvil  leaves  Japan 
we  shall  be  called  upon  to  witness  again,  and  more  than 
once,  perhaps,  sights  similar  to  that  which  horrified  us  all 
yesterday.” 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries,  121 


“ Yes,”  returned  the  other,  slowly,  “it  is  quite  possi- 
ble we  may;  yet,  sir,  I do  not  regret  what  I have  done.” 
“ And  have  I really  found  you  at  last,  Mynheer  Beau- 
mont ?”  broke  in  the  captain’s  cheery  voice  behind  the 
speakers,  “ I have  been  searching  for  you.  Heer  Santvoort, 
with  the  company’s  agent  from  Hirado,  is  coming  off  to 
the  ship,  and  I need  hardly  say  you  are  longing  to  stretch 
your  legs  a bit  on  shore.  So  I shall  bespeak  an  invitation 
for  you  to  dine  to-day  at  the  trading-house.” 

“ Many  thanks,  indeed,”  responded  the  young  man,  “ I 
shall  be  highly  pleased  to  go.” 

“ Come  with  me,  then,”  Van  Neist  returned,  “the  sam- 
pan is  alongside  by  this  time  ; let  us  go  forward  and 
meet  our  visitors,”  and  linking  his  arm  within  that  of  the 
Englishman,  the  captain  and  Beaumont  hastened  to  the 
gangway,  where  a group  of  officers  were  already  gathered 
in  readiness  to  receive  the  two  merchants. 


II. 

THE  PLOT  OF  KANSHIN,  THE  DEPUTY. 

Never  to  forget  an  injury,  never  to  forgive  the  perpe- 
trator, never  to  rest  content  until  revenge  had  been 
obtained — this  was  an  important  part  of  the  code  of 
honor  prevailing  among  the  Samurai  of  Japan.  Kanshin, 
the  governor’s  deputy,  by  both  natural  disposition  and 
education,  was  a typical  Samurai.  The  humiliation  he 
had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  Captain  Van  Xeist,  though 
nothing  more  than  a just  rebuke  to  his  insolent  bullying, 
aroused  all  the  savage  thirst  for  revenge  his  ferocious 
nature  was  capable  of.  On  the  way  back  from  the  ship, 
his  mind  was  busy  with  schemes  for  the  accomplishment 


122  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


of  his  supreme  desire,  and,  by  the  time  he  had  reached 
the  governor’s  palace  in  the  heart  of  the  city,  he  had 
decided  on  a course  of  action  which  needed  but  his 
superior’s  sanction  to  insure  him  the  attainment  of  his 
wished-for  vengeance.  Entering  the  building  in  his 
stocking  feet,  the  deputy  passed  noiselessly  through 
room  after  room  until  he  reached  the  governor’s  audience- 
chamber.  This  was  a larger  and  more  richly  finished  room 
than  the  others,  and  was  embellished  with  many  articles  of 
European  manufacture,  that  had  found  their  way  hither 
through  the  agency  of  the  Dutch  traders.  At  one  side  of 
the  apartment  the  floor  was  raised  a foot  or  more  above 
the  level  of  the  remainder  of  the  room,  and  here,  dressed 
in  the  rich  official  robes  of  his  station,  sat  Lord  Oda, 
Governor  of  Nagasaki,  engaged  in  conversation  with  two 
men,  who,  from  the  profusion  of  decorations  that  covered 
their  armor,  were  evidently  military  officers  of  a high 
rank.  Such  they  were  ; one-being  General  Itakura,  the 
commander-in-chief  of  the  government  troops  assembled 
at  Shimabara,  for  the  suppression  of  the  Christians,  and 
the  other,  Prince  Ogasawara,  the  second  officer  in  com- 
mand. 

The  three  men  were  seated  on  the  mats  that  covered 
the  floor  of  the  room,  a small  charcoal  brazier  before 
them,  and  close  beside  Ogasawara  stood  the  ever  present 
tea  service  ; for  in  Japan  nothing,  from  the  most  frivolous 
neighborhood  gossip  to  the  weightiest  affairs  of  state, 
can  be  discussed  without  oft  repeated  libations  to  the 
great  god,  Tea. 

As  Kanshin  opened  the  sliding  doors  that  separated 
the  audience-chamber  from  the  adjoining  room,  and, 
perceiving  the  guests,  he  prostrated  himself  on  the  floor 
in  a low  obeisance,  then,  rising  to  a sitting  posture,  he 
awaited  in  silence  the  will  of  the  governor.  Oda  and  his 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  123 


guests  acknowledged  the  deputy’s  low  bow  with  a slight 
inclination  of  the  head  and  continued  their  conversation. 
General  Itakura  was  speaking  : 

“As  I said  a moment  ago,  the  rebellion  had  already 
become  too  formidable  for  the  small  military  force  then 
in  Kiushiu  to  subdue.  Nearly  all  of  our  princes  were  in 
Yedo,  and  their  principal  retainers  were  with  them.  As 
soon  as  the  insurrection  occurred  in  Amakusa  therefore, 
Terazawa  dispatched  messengers  to  the  Shogun  acquaint- 
ing him  of  the  fact.  I was  present  in  the  conference  of 
the  Kiushiu  princes  that  followed.  The  prevailing  opin- 
ion among  those  present  was  that  the  trouble  had  been 
caused  by  the  tyranny  of  Terazawa  and  Matsukura,  and 
that  they,  in  order  to  shield  themselves,  pretended  that 
the  uprising  was  wholly  due  to  the  rebellious  spirit  of 
their  Christian  subjects.” 

“ These  dogs  of  Christians  have  always  been  a thorn 
in  our  side,”  cried  Oda,  savagely  ; “and  how  could  our 
princes  mistake  so  concerning  the  cause  of  the  trouble  !” 

“They  knew  both  the  Lord  of  Amakusa  and  the  Lord 
of  Shimabara  to  be  violent  men,”  said  Ogasawara,  with  a 
quiet  smile.  “And  more  than  once  have  complaints  of 
burdensome  taxation  come  from  their  subjects.” 

“ Be  that  as  it  may,”  General  Itakura  resumed,  “ it  was 
decided  in  the  council  that  the  Kiushiu  princes,  with 
their  retainers,  should  hasten  to  the  scene  of  the  disturb- 
ance, and  that  I should  be  entrusted  with  the  leadership 
of  the  campaign  for  the  suppression  of  the  insurrection. 
A week  ago  I arrived  in  Shimabara,  and  I found  Matsu- 
kura and  his  retainers  feasting  and  drinking  in  the  shel- 
ter of  their  castle,  the  rebels  having  driven  them  to  its 
very  walls  and  compelled  them  to  close  their  gates.  He 
had  done  nothing  to  check  the  progress  of  the  rebellion. 
During  the  past  week  a few  unimportant  engagements 


124  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


have  been  fought,  but,  owing  to  the  advantage  of  posi- 
tion which  they  hold,  the  rebels  have  generally  been  the 
victors.  Yesterday  morning  they  met  their  first  reverse. 
A detachment,  under  two  of  their  leaders,  made  an  attack 
on  Tomioka  castle,  and  was  repulsed  with  considerable 
loss.” 

“I  heard,”  said  the  governor,  “that  the  Christians  are 
repairing  Hara  Castle,  with  the  intention  of  making  it 
their  stronghold.  Have  they  yet  entered  it?” 

“They  have,”  Ogasawara  replied.  “And,  in  addition, 
they  hold  the  whole  line  of  country  from  Mt.  Unzen  to 
the  castle,  and  out  to  the  small  islands  in  the  gulf.  They 
have  a strong  position.” 

“ And  that  is  the  very  reason  why  we  must  have  foreign 
artillery,”  Itakura  added.  “ I understand  that  the  ship 
which  has  just  arrived  in  the  outer  bay  is  the  heaviest 
armed  merchantman  that  comes  to  Japan.  She  would, 
therefore,  most  admirably  suit  our  purpose.  With 
her  help,  our  fleet  of  war-junks  could  dislodge  the 
Christians  from  their  defenses  on  the  islands,  and  then 
bombard  the  castle  from  the  sea,  while  our  army  storms 
it  from  the  land  side.  No  means  must  be  left  untried  to 
secure  that  ship.” 

“You  may  depend  that  no  effort  shall  be  spared  to 
secure  her,”  Lord  Oda  responded  promptly,  and  then, 
with  a significant  smile,  he  added  : “ Without  her  cap- 

tain and  officers  if  that  be  at  all  possible.” 

General  Itakura  bent  an  approving  look  upon  the  gov- 
ernor. “ Be  it  as  you  say.  The  ship  can  be  used  to 
greater  advantage  if  she  should  be  wholly  under  our 
control.  Nevertheless,  let  a sufficient  number  of  the 
crew  remain  to  navigate  her.  We  might  otherwise  have 
trouble.” 

“ It  shall  be  as  you  wish,”  Oda  replied  briefly,  and 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries,  i 25 


then,  as  his  guests  arose  to  take  their  departure,  he  con- 
tinued : “ Can  I not  prevail  upon  you  to  remain  until 

to-morrow  night?  You,  of  course,  have  heard  of  the 
contemplated  execution  of  the  Christian  prisoners  now 
lying  in  our  dungeon.  If  you  stay,  I can  promise  you  a 
spectacle,  the  equal  of  which  has  not  yet  been  seen  in 
Japan.  More  than  three  hundred  of  the  accursed  jashiu 
mon*  after  we  are  through  with  them  to-morrow  night, 
will  no  longer  menace  our  peace  and  safety.” 

“You  are  kind  to  invite  us,”  Itakura  responded,  “but 
it  would  be  impossible  for  us  to  remain.  Within  a day 
or  two  Prince  Nabeshima  of  Kai  is  expected  at  Shima- 
bara,  and,  as  soon  as  he  arrives,  I am  intending  to  move 
upon  the  enemy.  In  the  meantime,  preparations  must 
be  made.” 

“Nabeshima  will  be  here  to-morrow  evening,”  the 
governor  said.  “ He  and  his  body-guard  are  to  form  my 
escort  to  the  execution.” 

“ Indeed  ! Ah,  that  Nabeshima  is  destined  to  be  one 
of  our  nation’s  greatest  warriors.  It  would  have  pleased 
you  had  you  seen  the  joyful  excitement  among  the  troops 
when  they  heard,  the  other  day,  that  the  Prince  of  Kai 
was  to  take  part  in  the  campaign.  No  leader  in  Japan 
so  fills  the  soldier’s  ideal  of  a brave,  gentle,  and  chivalrous 
chieftain  as  does  Lord  Nabeshima.” 

“ He  seems  to  me  to  be  too  gentle  for  the  sort  of  work 
we  are  now  engaged  in,”  Oda  said,  with  a shrug.  “ He 
would  spare  the  women  and  children  of  this  hated  jashui 
mon , and  that,  we  know,  would  be  folly  if  we  desire  to 
rid  the  country  of  the  pernicious  doctrines  of  the  barba- 
rian priests.” 

“ I like  him  not,”  Ogasawara  remarked,  with  a frown. 
“Lord  Nabeshima  may  be  brave  and  courteous,  but 
* Corrupt  sect. 


126  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


wherever  he  is,  his  excessive  praise  and  flattery  of  his 
men  make  the  other  princes’  retainers  look  for  the 
same  from  their  lords,  and  be  dissatisfied  when  they  do 
not  receive  it.” 

“ I did  not  mean  to  raise  a discussion  respecting  the 
military  character  of  the  Prince  of  Kai,”  interposed  Gen- 
eral Itakura,  with  a smile.  “I  am  aware  that  there  are 
persons  that  do  not  look  upon  him  in  the  manner  in 
which  I am  inclined  to  do.  But,  Lord  Ogasawara,  we 
must  be  on  our  way  at  once  ; the  afternoon  is  already 
far  spent,  and  a long  journey  lies  before  us.” 

The  guests,  with  many  profound  bows,  now  took  their 
departure.  As  soon  as  they  had  passed  out,  Oda  turned 
to  the  deputy  and  motioned  him  to  draw  near. 

“Thy  report,  Kanshin  !”  he  said,  briefly,  pushing  the 
tea-service  toward  him. 

The  deputy,  in  a subdued  voice,  and  with  frequent  low 
bows,  recounted  his  experience  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil. 
When  he  had  finished,  he  once  again  prostrated  himself 
on  the  floor  before  his  superior,  who  scarcely  acknowl- 
edged the  obeisance,  so  deeply  buried  in  thought  was  he, 
not,  however,  over  Kanshin’s  report  that  the  two  Japan- 
ese passengers  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  had  escaped  to 
the  shore,  but  over  an  endeavor  to  discover  some  way  to 
secure  the  coveted  vessel. 

“Your  Excellency!”  It  was  Kanshin  who  spoke,  and 
once  again  his  forehead  was  bowed  to  the  mat  on  which 
he  was  sitting. 

“Well,  what  is  it?”  Oda  inquired,  absently. 

“A  few  weeks  ago  Gonroku,  the  robber-chieftain,  was 
captured.  He  is  now  in  the  city  dungeon  awaiting  his 
execution  that  is  to  take  place  the  day  after  to-morrow.” 

The  governor  turned  a frowning  countenance  on  the 
deputy.  What  had  Gonroku,  the  robber,  to  do  with  the 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  tiie  Missionaries. 


12  7 


problem  that  was  now  perplexing  his  brain  ? With 
another  low  bow,  the  speaker  continued  : 

“Which  would  you  prefer:  that  Gonroku  have  his 
life  and  you  the  foreign  ship  which  General  Itakura  has 
just  commanded  you  to  secure,  or  that  Gonroku  die  and 
the  ship  be  lost  to  you  ?” 

Oda  was  now  interested. 

“ I do  not  comprehend  you,  Kanshin,”  he  said,  his 
amazement  plainly  visible  in  the  look  that  he  turned 
upon  his  companion.  “What  relation  can  a prisoner  in 
our  dungeon  have  to  the  capture  of  the  Spuyten  Duyvil ?" 

Kanshin  was  silent  for  a minute  or  two.  His  naturally 
unprepossessing  countenance  wore  a look  of  crafty 
cunning. 

“ I have  a plan,”  he  said,  at  length,  “that  will  place 
the  ship  in  your  possession.  Will  your  Excellency 
hear  it  ?” 

The  governor  laid  his  hand  on  the  deputy’s  shoulder. 
“I  shall  gladly  welcome  any  scheme  that  will  bring 
about  what  you  say  ; and,  mark  you,  Kanshin,  if  your 
plan  be  successful,  rich  shall  be  your  reward.” 

Kanshin's  evil  eyes  glittered.  He  was  thinking  of  the 
humiliation  that  he  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  Van 
Neist,  and  a look  of  ferocious  hatred  swept  over  his 
savage  face.  Bowing  low,  he  said  : 

“ It  is  for  a reward  ; but,  perhaps,  not  such  a one  as 
you  may  think,  that  I have  devised  this  plan.” 

“Your  reward  will  be  what  you  wish,”  Oda  returned, 
divining  by  the  expression  on  the  deputy’s  countenance 
what  that  reward  was  to  be.  “ Only  go  on  and  explain 
your  plan.  What  is  it  ?” 

“ The  barbarian  captain — may  the  wrath  of  the  eight 
hundred  thousand  gods  of  Japan  seize  him  ! — is  now 
angered  against  us.  Early  to-morrow  morning  I must 


128  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missio7iaries. 


go  back  and  apologize  for  drawing  my  sword  upon  him 
this  afternoon.” 

“ What  is  the  object  of  this  ?” 

“To  conciliate  the  foreign  devil  withal,  and  to  make 
your  victory  over  him  the  more  certain.” 

“ Proceed.” 

“ Then — ” But  the  deputy’s  courage  here  seemed  to 
fail  him.  He  hesitated  to  suggest  the  next  step.  “ Your 
Excellency,  I fear,  will  be  angry  with  me.” 

“ Kanshin,”  and  again  the  governor’s  hand  was  laid  on 
his  companion’s  shoulder,  “we  must  have  that  ship. 
Whatever  plan  promises  to  secure  it  must  be  followed, 
regardless  of  our  personal  feelings.” 

Thus  encouraged,  the  deputy  proceeded  to  unfold  his 
scheme. 

“ I beseech  your  Excellency,  then,  to  go  in  person  to 
Santvoort’s  house  to-morrow,  and,  in  whatever  way  you 
can,  to  win  the  good-will  of  the  barbarian  captain. 
When  this  is  secured,  offer  to  hire  his  ship  to  assist  us  in 
subduing  the  rebels  at  Arima.  Plead  the  necessity  of 
having  his  co-operation  at  even  the  greatest  cost,  and  let 
him  make  his  own  terms.  Have  the  agreement  at  once 
drawn  up  and  signed.” 

“What  makes  you  think  that  the  Dutch  captain  will 
consent  to  enter  into  such  a contract  ?” 

The  other’s  lips  curled  in  a contemptuous  sneer. 

“ Do  not  fear  that.  We  know  the  Dutch.  Bait  your 
trap  with  gold,  and  they  will  walk  into  it  with  their  eyes 
open.” 

“ And  that  is  your  plan  ?” 

“ A small  part  of  it  only.  With  this  agreement  between 
you,  the  barbarian  will  be  less  suspicious.  Then  invite 
him  and  his  officers  to  attend  the  execution  to-morrow 
night,  promise  them  an  armed  escort.  Ask  him,  more- 


THU  THREE  MEN  WERE  HEATEI)  ON  THE  MATH  THAT  COVERED  THE  FLOOR  OF  THE  ROOM. —See  Page  122. 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  131 


over,  to  allow  thirty  or  forty  of  his  crew  to  come  ashore 
to  assist  your  guards  in  keeping  order  ; for  this,  likewise, 
offer  a liberal  compensation.  Secure  also,  if  possible, 
the  loan  of  the  small  arms  of  the  ship.  Be  free  with 
offers  of  money  ; it  will  be  but  promises  ; you  will  never 
be  asked  to  pay  it.” 

The  governor’s  face  wore  a puzzled  expression.  “ You 
interest  me.  If  the  ship  can  be  had  for  promises  of 
money  only,  pray  let  me  know  how.” 

The  deputy  leaned  toward  Oda  ; a smile  of  diabolical 
triumph  made  his  countenance  seem  like  the  face  of 
some  savage  beast. 

“A  short  time  ago,  I heard  you  promise  Itakura  to 
secure  him  the  Dutch  ship  without  her  captain  and  offi- 
cers should  it  be  at  all  possible  to  do  so.  My  plan  will 
enable  you  to  fulfill  your  promise  even  in  this.  I just 
now  mentioned  the  name  of  Gonroku,  the  robber-chief- 
tain.  Give  him  his  liberty,  and  promise  him  a liberal 
reward  upon  the  performance  of  certain  things.”  The 
speaker  paused,  and  keenly  regarded  his  companion. 

“ Proceed  !”  said  Oda,  calmly.  “I  am  listening.” 

“The  city  is  filling  up  this  afternoon  with  hundreds  of 
lawless  characters  from  all  the  surrounding  country, 
attracted,  no  doubt,  by  the  approaching  execution.  All 
day  to-morrow  they  will  probably  continue  to  come. 
Among  these  there  will  be  many  of  Gonroku’s  followers, 
and  scores  of  other  outlaws,  whom  he  knows.  Turn  him 
loose  among  these,  and  in  a few  hours  he  will  have  a 
force  more  than  able  to  do  what  is  wanted  of  it.  After 
the  execution  to-morrow  night,  let  Gonroku  make  a riot, 
let  the  officers  and  the  crew  of  the  foreign  ship  be  at- 
tacked, let  the  guards  about  Van  Neist  be  instructed  to 
flee,  as  if  in  terror,  and  leave  the  rest  to  Gonroku  and 
his  outlaws.” 


132  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


III. 

TEN  THOUSAND  RYO  REWARD,  DEAD  OR  ALIVE. 

“Were  I a Captain  Van  Neist’s  friend  I should  warn 
him  to  beware  of  the  governor’s  deputy.’’ 

The  speaker  was  Asuga  the  interpreter,  and  the  person 
to  whom  he  addressed  his  remark  was  Marmion  Beau- 
mont. The  two  were  just  entering  one  of  the  principal 
streets  of  Nagasaki,  whither  the  young  Englishman  had 
gone  to  have  his  first  glimpse  of  Japanese  life.  Asuga 
had  kindly  volunteered  his  services  as  guide. 

“Why  so  ?”  Beaumont  inquired,  in  answer  to  the  inter- 
preter’s hint  of  danger.  “Is  Kanshin,  as  I believe  you 
call  him,  likely  to  do  the  captain  harm  ?” 

“ Even  so,  Heer  Beaumont,  Asuga  replied  with  a pro- 
found obesiance,  “that  officer  will  dog  Van  Neist’s  foot- 
steps wherever  he  may  go  until  he  has  an  opportunity  to 
avenge  himself  for  yesterday’s  humiliation.” 

“ Thank  you  for  the  hint ; I shall  warn  the  captain,  that 
he  may  be  on  his  guard.” 

The  interpreter’s  caution,  however,  was  soon  forgotten 
in  the  interest  which  the  strange  life  about  him  aroused 
in  the  young  Englishman.  The  quaint  rambling  street, 
through  which  they  were  passing,  lined  on  either  side  by 
open  shops  with  their  dingy  wood-colored  and  weather- 
beaten fronts,  were  thronged  with  people.  Here  a betto * 
running  ahead  of  some  mounted  official,  shouted  to  the 
pedestrians  to  clear  the  way  ; there  a lady  of  rank,  clad 
in  rich,  flowing  robes,  was  seen  seated  in  her  luxurious 
norimono, f borne  on  the  shoulders  of  four  picturesquely 


* Groom. 


t Palanquin. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  133 


attired  men-servants.  The  more  humble  wayfarers,  men 
and  women,  young  and  old,  jostled  against  each  other 
with  the  utmost  good-humor.  Street  venders,  bearing 
large  baskets  slung  from  a pole  laid  over  the  shoulder, 
were  noisily  announcing  the  names  of  their  wares  ; chil- 
dren, scarcely  more  than  four  or  five  years  old,  bearing 
still  younger  children  bound  on  their  backs,  darted  here 
and  there  under  the  very  feet  of  the  horses  and  through 
the  thick  press  of  the  hurrying  crowds  ; beggars,  stand- 
ingat  the  Street  corners,  or  lying  on  the  numerous  bridges, 
besought  a tempo  ,*  from  the  passers-by  ; and  dwarfish, 
surly-looking  ponies,  their  backs  heavily  freighted  with 
rice  from  the  distant  plains  of  Higo,  or  with  charcoal 
from  the  mountains  close  at  hand,  staggered  through  the 
streets  after  the  almost  nude  rustics  leading  them. 

After  walking  a considerable  distance,  Asuga  led  the 
young  Englishman  into  an  open  space  at  the  foot  of  a 
broad  flight  of  stone  steps,  that  led  upward  in  successive 
stages  to  a small  plateau  on  the  hillside  above  them, 
where  rose  the  picturesque  roof  of  a large  temple.  On 
either  side  of  the  entrance  to  these  steps  public  notice- 
boards  were  erected,  and  before  one  of  these  a number  of 
soldiers  and  citizens  were  assembled. 

“ The  temple  that  you  see  above  us  on  the  edge  of 
that  grove  is  dedicated  to  Suwa,  the  patron  god  of  Na- 
gasaki, and  is,  consequently,  the  most  frequented  one  in 
the  city,”  remarked  the  interpreter  to  Beaumont,  as  the 
two  men  paused  for  a moment  at  the  corner  of  the  little 
street  whence  they  had  just  emerged.  “ Therefore,  the 
government  officials  use  this  place  for  any  special  pro- 
clamation, knowing  that  more  people  will  see  the  notices 
here  than  anywhere  else  in  the  city.  Here,  of  late  years,  the 
government's  utterances  respecting  Christianity  have  con- 
* A smail  sum  of  money  equal  to  about  mills. 


134  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missio?iaries. 


stantly  been  published  : that  large  announcement,  placed 
above  all  the  others,  being  Iyeyasu’s  edict,  issued  twenty- 
three  years  ago,  proclaiming  a profession  of  the  foreign  re- 
ligion upon  the  part  of  a Japanese  subject  to  be  a capital 
crime.  Just  under  it  is  another  edict  declaring  all  European 
priests  to  be  enemies  of  Japan,  and  forbidding  any  Jap- 
anese to  shelter  them.  On  this  other  side  you  perceive  a 
new  board.  That  was  set  up  by  order  of  our  governor 
some  two  weeks  ago.  It  gives  official  announcement  of 
the  fact  that  the  Christians  of  Shimabara  and  Amakusa 
have  taken  up  arms  against  the  government,  and  states 
that  if  any  one  in  Nagasaki  or  its  vicinity  dare  to  join  the 
rebels,  or  in  any  way  to  give  them  assistance,  that  person, 
with  all  his  kindred,  shall  be  put  to  death.  I presume 
some  new  proclamation  has  to-day  been  posted  up,  as  the. 
people  ahead  of  us  seem  to  be  reading  a notice,  and  some- 
thing unusual,  too,  it  must  be,  for,  see  ! they  are  greatly 
excited.” 

“Would  it  be  possible  for  us  to  join  them  and  discover 
what  it  may  be  ?” 

“Certainly  ; let  us  walk  up  a little  closer.” 

The  two  soon  found  themselves  before  the  proclama- 
tion that  was  attracting  so  much  attention.  It  was  writ- 
ten with  various  colored  inks  and  in  large  characters  upon 
a newly  erected  board.  The  interpreter  gave  utterance 
to  an  exclamation  of  surprise. 

What  is  the  notice,  may  I ask?”  inquired  Beaumont. 

“The  governor  makes  official  announcement  that  he 
has  received  trustworthy  information  that  Francesco 
Paoli,  the  Jesuit  missionary,  has  returned  to  Japan,  and  is 
now  in  the  city  or  its  immediate  neighborhood,”  cried  the 
interpreter,  breathlessly.  “ He  calls  upon  all  who  value 
the  good  of  their  country  to  make  untiring  efforts  to  hunt 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  135 


down  the  hated  priest,  and  offers  ten  thousand  ryo*  re- 
ward for  his  capture,  dead  or  alive.” 

The  Englishman  heard  Asuga’s  words  with  a sinking 
heart.  Paoli’s  return,  then,  was  known  to  his  enemies, 
his  capture,  he  feared,  was  as  good  as  accomplished,  for 
with  such  a price  as  this  set  upon  his  head,  his  detection 
could  only  be  a question  of  time.  Nevertheless,  assuming 
as  indifferent  an  air  as  he  could  command,  he  said  to  his 
companion  : 

“ Is  this  anything  new  ? I understood  that  for  the  past 
ten  years  a reward  has  been  offered  for  his  capture.” 
“Very  true,  but  this  is  double  the  reward  formerly 
offered.” 

“I  presume  that  it  will  be  no  more  effectual,  however, 
in  bringing  about  his  capture  than  was  the  earlier  offer.” 
“ It  may  be  so,”  replied  the  interpreter  recovering 
somewhat  from  his  excitement.  “Our  people  say  the 
Jesuit  is  an  oni,\  and  that  his  life  is,  consequently,  proof 
against  all  manner  of  weapons  and  poison.  And  if  he  now 
escapes,  with  this  price  set  upon  his  capture,  I,  too,  shall 
be  inclined  to  believe  that  he  is  more  devil  than  man.” 


IV. 

AN  ENGLISH  RAPIER  ENCOUNTERS  A JAPANESE  SWORD. 

Just  then  one  of  the  bystanders  touched  Asuga  on  the 
shoulder. 

“ Fellow,  I would  speak  with  thee,”  said  the  stranger 
haughtily. 

* A sum  of  money  equal  to  about  fifty  thousand  dollars  at  the 
present  day.  t Demon,  or  devil. 


136  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


The  interpreter  turned  a quick,  startled  look  upon  the 
speaker,  and  saw  a Samurai ',  dressed  in  a soldier’s  ordinary 
suit  of  armor,  coldly  regarding  him.  Instantly  Asuga 
dropped  upon  his  knees,  and,  touching  his  forehead  to 
the  earth,  said  in  a humble  tone  : 

“ May  it  please  thee  to  speak  to  thy  servant.” 

“ Rise  !”  said  the  other,  even  more  disdainfully  than 
he  had  previously  spoken. 

Asuga  sprang  to  his  feet. 

“ Who  is  thy  companion,  feilow  ?” 

“An  Englishman  ; his  name  is  Beaumont.” 

“ When  did  he  arrive  in  Japan  ?” 

“ Yesterday,  aboard  the  foreign  merchantman  now 
lying  in  the  harbor.” 

“ Ah ! the  ship  that  is  suspected  of  bringing  the 
accursed  priest,  Paoli,  to  Nagasaki,”  said  the  other, 
motioning  with  his  hand  in  the  direction  of  the  notice- 
board. 

Asuga  was  silent. 

“ Fellow,  I would  speak  to  thy  companion,”  continued 
the  soldier,  “ but  wait.  Dost  thou  know  this  crest  upon 
my  helmet  ?” 

“Is  it  not  the  crest  of  the  valiant  Prince  Kaneko,  of 
Ishihaya  ?” 

“ Fellow,  it  is.  I am  Uyemon  Yamada,  and  yesterday 
I was  proud  to  be  called  a retainer  of  my  Lord  Kaneko. 
Mark,  fellow,  I say  was,  for  to-day  I am  a Ronin  ;*  last 
night  I lost  my  prince.” 

Asuga  did  not  dare  to  make  any  reply  to  this  inform- 
ation beyond  a low  bow.  The  speaker  continued  : 

“The  Jesuit,  Francesco  Paoli,  killed  my  lord.” 

The  listener  could  not  repress  an  exclamation  of 
astonishment. 

* A retainer  who  has  lost  his  lord  and  wanders  about  the  country. 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  137 


“ Silence,  fellow,  silence  !”  the  Rottin  said,  haughtily. 
“Where  are  thy  manners  ? Wouldst  thou  have  me  carve 
thee  with  my  sword  ? I said  that  the  hated  priest  killed 
Prince  Kaneko  ; he  likewise  slew  twenty-eight  of  my 
fellow-retainers.  The  Jesuit  ran  down  their  boat,  and 
they  perished  in  the  sea.  A single  sendo  swam  ashore  ; 
he  heard  the  barbarian  declare  himself  to  be  Paoli,  and  this 
morning  he  came  and  told  me.  I have  sworn  to  avenge 
mv  lord.  Day  and  night  shall  I follow  on  the  track  of 
this  priest  until  I hunt  him  down.  No  disguise  shall 
hide  him  from  my  eyes,  no  number  of  friends  secure  him 
from  my  sword.  This  companion  of  thine,  I would  see 
him  ; he  has  moved  off  yonder  ; let  us  go  to  him.  Come, 
fellow,  lead  on  !” 

The  Englishman  had  moved  a little  distance  away 
from  the  notice-boards,  and  was  patiently  waiting  until 
the  soldier  might  be  pleased  to  allow  his  companion  to 
rejoin  him.  As  he  stood  watching  the  noisy  concourse 
before  him,  his  attention  was  attracted  by  an  old  man  in  the 
white  garb  of  a Buddhist  pilgrim,  who  was  slowly  making 
his  way  through  the  crowd  that  jostled  him  roughly  from 
side  to  side.  The  upper  part  of  the  pilgrim’s  face  was 
entirely  covered  with  the  drooping  rim  of  his  hat,  a 
rosary  hung  suspended  from  his  neck,  and  he  carried  in 
his  hand  a staff,  on  the  upper  end  of  which  was  affixed  a 
small  bell.  The  old  man  walked  slowly,  frequently 
pausing  to  ring  his  bell  and  mutter  over  in  a chanting 
monotone  the  words  of  the  Buddhist  prayer  : 

“ Naniu  mio  ho  ren  ge  kio  /”* 

Approaching  Beaumont,  the  pilgrim  reached  forth  his 
hand  and  began  to  examine  the  clothing  of  the  foreigner, 
until,  under  the  pretext  of  closely  scrutinizing  his  doub- 

* Glory  to  the  salvation-bringing  Buddha. 


138  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


let,  the  old  man  bent  his  head  over  the  Englishman’s 
shoulder,  whispering  in  Spanish  as  he  did  so  : 

“ Hush,  Senor,  not  a word  ! It  is  I — Paoli.  Meet  me 
to-day  on  the  hill-top  above  us  alone  ; I wish  to  speak 
with  you.  Hush  ! for  the  love  of  God,  Sefior,  be  quiet !” 
But  the  shock  of  surprise  was  too  great.  Beaumont 
sprang  back,  barely  checking  the  cry  that  rose  to  his  lips. 
Asuga  was  close  behind  him,  with  the  Ronin  at  his  side. 

“ Heer  Beaumont,”  said  the  interpreter,  “this  soldier 
wishes  to  speak  with  you.” 

He  pointed  to  Yamada  as  he  spoke  ; but  the  Ronin' s 
eyes  were  fixed  on  Paoli,  and,  with  a tiger-like  spring, 
he  leaped  upon  him,  felling  him  to  the  earth. 

Then  turning  to  Asuga  the  soldier  spoke  a few  words 
in  the  same  haughty  tone  that  he  had  used  in  his  previous 
conversation  with  the  interpreter.  The  latter  stepped 
forward  to  Beaumont,  whose  alarm  for  the  safety  of  the 
bishop  was  now  greater  than  had  been  his  surprise  a 
moment  before  at  finding  him  in  the  guise  of  a pilgrim. 

“Mynheer,”  the  interpreter  said  to  him,  “the  soldier 
wishes  me  to  inform  you  that  he  saw  this  old  man  molest- 
ing you,  and  evidently  making  you  afraid.  He  has,  there- 
fore, struck  down  the  offender,  as  you  have  perceived,  and, 
if  you  desire  it,  he  will  give  him  a beating.” 

The  Englishman  drew  a long  breath  of  relief.  The 
Ronin , then,  had  not  detected  Paoli.  He  had  only  been 
defending  a foreigner  from,  as  he  supposed,  the  meddle- 
some inquisitiveness  of  the  old  pilgrim. 

Paoli  had  fallen  face  downward.  Divining  at  once 
the  cause  of  the  assault,  he  remained  in  a prostrate 
position  until  the  interpreter  had  conveyed  the  Ronin’s 
words  to  Beaumont,  and  then  rising  to  his  knees  and 
bowing  his  forehead  to  the  ground  at  the  feet  of  Yamada, 
he  said  in  an  abject  tone  : 


Pa oli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  139 


“ Thy  servant,  great  sir,  meant  no  harm.  May  it  please 
thee  to  let  him  depart  in  peace.  And  will  the  honorable 
foreigner,  likewise,  grant  the  miserable  offender  his 
pardon  ?” 

Asuga  briefly  made  known  to  the  Englishman  the 
meaning  of  the  pilgrim’s  words. 

“Assure  this  soldier  that  it  is  not  my  wish  that  he 
further  punish  the  old  man.  Let  him  go  in  peace,  as  he 
desires.  Nevertheless,  allow  me  to  thank  your  companion 
for  his  promptness  in  ridding  me  of  what  he  conceived 
to  be  an  annoyance.” 

Beaumont’s  reply  pleased  the  Ronin.  With  a threat  of 
a severer  punishment  to  follow  his  second  offence,  the 
pilgrim  was  dismissed  with  a rough  push.  The  English- 
man saw  him  move  off  slowly,  as  though  decrepit  with 
age,  stopping  every  now  and  then  to  ring  his  bell  and  to 
repeat  his  prayer. 

Beaumont  moved  after  him,  followed  by  Asuga  and 
the  soldier.  When  they  had  arrived  at  the  great  gate  of 
the  temple,  the  Ronin  said  to  the  interpreter  : 

“Invite  thy  companion,  fellow,  to  go  up  with  me  to 
one  of  the  tea-houses  by  the  temple  ; what  I would  have 
the  foreigner  say  is  made  for  my  ears  alone.” 

Beaumont,  when  acquainted  with  the  invitation,  hesi- 
tated, remembering  the  bishop’s  request  for  a meeting  on 
the  hill.  The  other  perceiving  this,  and  mistaking  it  for 
fear,  said,  scornfully  : 

“ Tell  this  cowardly  barbarian,  fellow,  that  he  is  safe. 
The  sword  of  Yamada  is  reserved  for  a better  cause  than 
to  be  stained  upon  him.” 

“ Let  him  not  mistake,”  retorted  the  Englishman,  coldly, 
and  touching  the  hilt  of  the  rapier  that  hung  at  his  side, 
he  turned  upon  the  Ronin  a look  as  proud  and  haughty 
as  his  own  ; “ I am  not  afraid.  Yet  for  his  insolence,  let 


140  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


him  know  that  I refuse  his  request.  If  he  has  aught  to 
say  to  me,  let  it  be  said  here,  where  his  comrades,  if  he 
have  any,  can  be  at  hand  to  assist  him  in  defending  him- 
self, should  he  be  foolhardy  enough  to  provoke  a quarrel.” 

This  defiant  speech  stung  the  Ronin  into  a furious  pas- 
sion. With  a cat-like  movement,  he  snatched  his  sword 
from  its  scabbard,  but  quick  as  he  was,  the  Englishman 
was  still  more  rapid  in  unsheathing  his  weapon.  One 
moment  the  slender  rapier  glittered  before  the  breast  of 
the  soldier,  and  the  next,  as  the  latter  raised  his  heavy 
blade  to  smite  the  foreigner,  there  was  a dexterous  turn 
of  the  Englishman’s  wrist,  and  the  Ronin  s sword  was 
sent  flying  from  his  grasp. 

A cry  of  surprise  burst  from  the  spectators.  “ Kekko! 
Kekko  !"*  shouted  one,  and  others  laughed.  It  was  plain 
that  some  of  the  bystanders  enjoyed  the  haughty  Samu- 
rai's discomfiture.  A soldier,  among  the  spectators, 
returned  his  sword  to  the  Ronin,  and  the  latter,  uttering  a 
fierce  yell  of  rage,  threw  himself  with  redoubled  fury 
upon  Beaumont. 

The  young  Englishman’s  heart  beat  as  though  it  would 
break  through  his  side  ; not  from  fear,  but  from  a sort  of 
mad  delight  in  the  desperate  struggle  he  was  waging. 
He  was  an  expert  swordsman,  and,  in  the  present  emer- 
gency, despite  his  excitement,  his  eye  lost  none  of  its 
quickness,  his  hand  none  of  its  cunning.  Like  a flash,  the 
slender  blade  darted  forth  just  at  the  proper  instant,  and 
once  again  the  Ronin  s sword  was  torn  from  his  grasp  and 
fell  with  a sharp  ring  on  the  stone  pavement.  This  time 
the  keen  point  of  the  Englishman’s  rapier  had  pierced  his 
adversary’s  wrist, f severing  one  of  the  larger  muscles  and 
rendering  his  hand  helpless.  The  shout  that  greeted  this 


* Excellent,  well  clone. 


+ See  frontispiece. 


Pa oli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  141 


second  achievement  was  more  hearty  than  the  one  before  ; 
even  some  of  the  soldiers  joined  in  the  applause. 

The  fight  was  now  ended.  The  Ronin,  defeated  and 
foaming  with  rage,  picked  up  his  fallen  sword  with  his 
uninjured  hand,  and,  without  a word,  withdrew.  Beau- 
mont, also,  beckoning  to  the  terror-stricken  Asuga  to  fol- 
low him,  passed  out  into  the  street.  The  spectators, 
parting  right  and  left,  made  a way  for  him,  watching  his 
movements  in  respectful  silence. 

The  Englishman  and  his  companion  took  their  way 
along  a broad  avenue,  skirting  the  base  of  the  hills.  Asuga, 
as  soon  as  he  had  recovered  from  his  fright,  congratulated 
Beaumont  on  his  victory,  and  then  added  : 

“Nevertheless,  Mynheer,  I fear  it  will  prove  to  be  a bad 
piece  of  work.” 

“ How  ?”  the  other  inquired. 

“ The  Ronin  is  now  your  relentless  enemy,  and  will 
seek  revenge.” 

Beaumont  laughed.  “ So,  so  ! Captain  Van  Neistis  to 
have  the  governor’s  deputy  hunting  him,  and  now  this 
fellow  will  be  thirsting  after  my  blood  ! Marry  ! but  we 
may  be  looking  out  for  sport  ahead.” 

The  timid  Asuga  failed  to  see  anything  like  sport 
in  the  situation. 

“I  am  sorry,  Mynheer,  that  you  angered  him.” 

The  Englishman  ignored  the  interpreter’s  remark. 
“You  seem  to  know  the  fellow,”  said  he.  “Who  is  he, 
and  what  did  he  wish  of  me  ?” 

In  reply,  Asuga  informed  him  of  all  that  the  Ronin  had 
said,  and  continued  : 

“ I presume  he  wished  to  question  you  respecting  the 
two  missing  Japanese  passengers,  one  of  whom,  it  is  be- 
lieved in  the  city,  must  have  been  the  Jesuit  priest,  Paoli, 
in  disguise.” 


142  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Beaumont  became  very  thoughtful.  He  perceived  how 
narrow  an  escape  the  bishop  had  just  had. 


V. 

THE  STORY  OF  A MARTYRDOM. 

At  length  the  Englishman  recalled  Paoli’s  desire  to 
meet  him  on  the  hill  above  the  city,  but  he  was  at  loss 
to  know  how  he  might  first  rid  himself  of  his  com- 
panion’s presence.  Even  while  he  was  pondering  over 
the  problem,  the  interpreter  halted,  and,  turning  to  him, 
said  : 

“ Heer  Beaumont,  I have  some  business  with  a friend 
in  a street  close  by  us.  With  your  permission,  I shall 
let  you  climb  this  hill  upon  our  left  alone.  From 
its  summit  you  will  have  an  excellent  view  of  the 
entire  city,  the  harbor,  the  islands  along  the  coast,  and  a 
wide  stretch  of  the  surrounding  country.  I assure  you, 
you  will  feel  amply  repaid  for  the  labor  of  the  climb. 
This  path  that  branches  off  to  our  left  will  lead  you  to 
the  top  of  the  hill.  I shall  meet  you  at  this  place  at  sun- 
set. If  you  do  not  care  to  go,  however,  I shall  first  con- 
duct you  back  to  the  factory,  and  visit  my  friend  later  in 
the  evening.” 

“Nay,  I shall  be  delighted  to  climb  the  hill,”  cried 
Beaumont,  rejoiced  beyond  measure  at  the  opportunity, 
thus  so  unexpectedly  given  him,  for  meeting  Bishop 
Paoli.  “I  shall  join  you  here  at  the  time  you  have  set.” 

The  two  men  now  separated.  In  a short  time,  the 
Englishman  reached  the  hill-top,  where  he  seated  himself 
on  a stone,  at  the  foot  of  a spreading  tree,  and  gazed 
long  and  delightedly  on  the  fair  scene  before  him.  Be* 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  143 


fore  long  he  heard  the  tinkling  of  a bell  somewhere  near, 
and,  rising  to  his  feet,  he  beheld  the  bishop  approaching 
him.  The  disguise  was  perfect,  and,  as  Paoli  joined 
him.  Beaumont,  with  a smile,  said  : 

“ He  who  detects  you  in  that  disguise,  Bishop  Paoli, 
will  earn,  methinks,  his  ten  thousand  ryo .” 

“ No  name,  please  Sefior,”  the  other  said,  resting  upon 
his  staff.  “ Yes,  it  will  be  difficult  to  discover  me  in  this 
garb,  I think.  After  disguising  myself,  I always  go  first 
among  friends,  and  if  they  do  not  recognize  me,  it  is 
safe  to  presume  that  strangers  will  not.” 

“Why  did  you  select  this  particular  disguise  ?” 

“I  have  always  found  it  safe  and  convenient,”  the 
bishop  responded.  “ At  times,  it  is  true,  the  pilgrim  falls 
into  the  hands  of  some  quarrelsome  Samurai ; but  other- 
wise he  can  travel  from  one  end  of  the  country  to  the 
other  with  the  utmost  safety.  You  see,  the  Buddhist 
pilgrim,  on  his  way  from  one  famous  shrine  to  another, 
begs  his  food  and  shelter,  and  the  people,  believing  that 
his  prayers  are  peculiarly  acceptable  to  Buddha,  are 
usually  very  liberal  in  their  donations,  and  vie  with  one 
another  in  the  readiness  with  which  they  welcome  the 
wayfarer  to  their  homes.  The  pilgrims,  also,  are  among 
the  most  efficient  spies  upon  the  Christians  that  the  gov- 
ernment possesses,  and  that  is  an  additional  reason  why, 
in  the  past,  I so  often  donned  their  garb,  since  thus 
I have  frequently  been  able  to  discover  what  dangers 
threatened  my  people,  and  to  warn  them  early  enough 
for  their  escape.” 

For  a time  the  two  men  looked  down  in  silence  upon 
the  quaint  old  town  and  the  pretty  little  bay  nestling  be- 
tween the  two  ranges  of  fronting  hills.  Then  the 
Englishman  spoke. 

“Yesterday  I learned  that  a foreign  priest  had  been 


144  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


detected  in  his  disguise,  and,  if  I remember  rightly,  he 
was  to  be  executed  to-day.  Have  you  heard  anything 
about  this  ?” 

A shadow  crossed  Paoli’s  face,  as  he  replied : 

“Yes,  it  is  but  too  true.  The  sole  survivor  of  a once 
numerous  and  devoted  company  of  apostles  of  the  faith 
has  to-day  fallen,  leaving  me,  Senor,  the  last  of  the  mis- 
sionaries, to  labor  alone  in  this  broken  vineyard  of  the 
Lord.  Poor  Father  Sotero  ! And  yet,  why  do  I call 
him  poor?  for  surely  he  did  die  most  triumphantly,  to 
the  confusion  of  the  heathen.  I was  just  returning 
from  his  execution,  Sefior  Beaumont,  when  we  met  at  the 
temple  below,  where  that  accursed  pagan  soldier  had 
need,  as  he  thought,  to  punish  me  for  being  too  close  to 
you.  Last  night  I heard  of  Father  Sotero’s  arrest  and 
of  the  determination  of  the  officials  to  put  him  to  death 
to-day.  Early  this  morning,  disguising  myself  as  you 
now  see  me,  I hastened  to  a little  mountain  hamlet  a 
mile  or  so  to  the  north  of  us,  where  the  execution  was 
to  take  place.  As  I drew  near  the  village,  I perceived 
a vast  concourse  of  idolators  gathered  on  a hill-top. 
Pressing  toward  them,  I found  that  Father  Sotero,  with 
five  other  victims,  had  just  been  brought  from  prison. 
To  increase  the  anguish  of  the  venerable  father,  the 
officials  tortured  and  put  to  death  before  his  eyes  the 
five  native  Christians.  But  the  designs  of  the  heathen 
were  foiled.  Father  Sotero,  though  agonizing  in  spirit 
with  his  perishing  converts,  joined  them  in  their  praises 
to  God  for  thus  crowning  their  past  services  with  the 
honors  of  martyrdom. 

“ Defeated  in  their  attempts  to  make  him  display  any 
signs  of  pain,  the  idolators,  shrieking  in  their  baffled 
rage,  rushed  upon  Father  Sotero,  and  bore  him  to  the 
earth.  Throwing  myself  among  the  mad  wretches,  1 


THE  OLD  MAN  BENT  HIS  HEAD  OVER  THE  ENGLISHMAN'S  SHOULDEIl. — See  1‘flf/e  J38. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  147 


succeeded  in  reaching  the  prostrate  form  of  my  friend. 
The  fiercest  of  his  assailants  were  religious  pilgrims, 
dressed  like  myself,  and  I knew  that  I was  safe  from  dis- 
covery. I allowed  the  surging  crowd  to  trample  me 
down  by  the  side  of  the  venerable  father,  until,  with  my 
lips  close  to  his  ear,  I whispered  my  name,  and  told  him 
that  Shiro  had  come.  How  can  I describe  what  followed  ! 
Was  it  a momentary  return  of  the  Samson-like  strength 
of  his  youth,  or  was  it  a miracle  of  Almighty  God?  I 
know  not.  But  I beheld  him  as  he  sprang  to  his  feet, 
bursting  the  cords  that  bound  him  as  though  they  were 
but  straws,  and  shaking  his  enemies  off  from  him  as  a 
lordly  lion  might  cast  off  a pack  of  yelling  curs.  I saw 
his  gigantic  form  towering  above  his  murderers  ; and 
they,  confounded  at  the  unexpected  energy  he  displayed, 
shrank  back,  cowed  into  silence.  His  clothing  had  been 
torn  off  him,  his  right  eye  was  dashed  out,  and  his  head 
and  body  were  streaming  with  blood.  I heard  his  deep, 
strong  voice,  thrilling  with  triumph  : ‘ Lord,  now  lettest 
thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  according  to  thy  word  ; 
for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation.’  Then,  with  a 
heart-piercing  cry,  he  plunged  forward  upon  his  face- 
The  bloodthirsty  mob  again  closed  over  him,  but  only  to 
wreak  their  fury  on  a corpse.  Father  Sotero  was  dead  !” 


VI. 

THE  BISHOP  OF  JAPAN  APPEARS  IN  A NEW  ROLE. 

Beaumont  had  listened  to  the  impassioned  recital  with 
visible  emotion.  Ignoring  the  effect  that  he  perceived 
his  words  had  had  upon  the  Englishman,  Paoli  added, 
quietly  : 


148  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ Pardon  me,  Sefior,  for  dwelling  thus  upon  the  death 
of  my  friend.  What  are  your  plans  for  the  immediate 
future,  may  I inquire  ?” 

“I  cannot  say,”  Beaumont  replied,  with  a smile.  “I 
would  be  safe,  I suppose,  in  saying  that  I shall  return 
to  Europe  on  the  Spuyten  Duyvil." 

“Even  what  you  appear  to  take  for  granted  as  certain 
is  not  entirely  beyond  the  range  of  doubt,  is  it,  Sefior? 
Are  you  sure  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  is  ever  going  back  to 
Amsterdam  ?” 

Something  in  the  tone  in  which  Paoli  asked  the 
question  aroused  the  Englishman’s  attention.  He  at 
once  felt  that  the  bishop  had  learned  of  some  danger 
threatening  Van  Neist  and  his  ship.  His  anxiety  was 
plainly  visible  in  the  inquiring  look  he  turned  upon  the 
Jesuit. 

“You  have  heard  of  some  plot  against  the  Spuyten  Duy- 
vil, Bishop  Paoli  ; pray  tell  what  it  is.” 

“First  let  me  hear,  Sefior,  what  happened  aboard  the 
ship  yesterday  morning,  after  Shiro  and  I so  uncere- 
moniously took  our  leave  of  you,”  and  the  Jesuit’s  face 
was  lighted  with  a quiet  smile. 

In  answer  to  the  bishop’s  request,  Beaumont  told  him 
of  the  deputy’s  visit  and  what  had  come  of  it.  “ But 
surely  there  can  be  no  danger  from  that  quarter,” 
the  young  man  said,  “for  early  this  morning  Kanshin 
came  off  to  the  ship  with  Koeckebacker,  the  Dutch  agent 
from  Hirado,  and  tendered  Van  Neist  a most  humble 
apology  for  his  rudeness  yesterday.  An  hour  or  so  ago 
Governor  Oda  himself  called  upon  the  captain  at  the 
trading-house  ; and,  when  I left,  he,  the  agent,  and  Van 
Neist  were  closeted  together,  discussing  some  proposition 
the  governor  had  to  offer.  This  much  I heard,  but  noth- 
ing more.” 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  149 


The  bishop  listened  in  moody  silence.  When  Beau- 
mont concluded  his  narration,  he  looked  anxiously  at  the 
Jesuit,  expecting  that  he  would  now  inform  him  of  any 
rumor  he  might  have  heard  ; but  Paoli  seemed  to  be  lost 
in  thought.  His  face  wore  a deeply  troubled  expression, 
and  when  at  last  he  spoke  he  appeared  to  be  unconscious 
of  the  presence  of  another. 

“ Then  the  report  among  the  people  is  correct  ; I was 
trusting  that  it  might  be  but  an  idle  rumor.  And  yet 
what  is  it  but  one  more  straw  that  the  infidels  are  fling- 
ing against  the  bulwarks  of  Heaven  ?” 

Paoli’s  words  increased  the  Englishman’s  alarm  ; he 
could  wait  no  longer. 

“Bishop  Paoli, you  are  perplexed,  troubled  ; you  have 
heard  some  ill-tidings — ” 

The  sound  of  his  companion’s  voice  aroused  the  Jesuit. 

“ Pardon  me,  Sefior,”  he  cried,  interrupting  Beaumont, 
“ I have  been  selfish  enough  to  allow  my  own  anxiety  to 
make  me  forgetful  of  yours.  What  I have  heard  is  briefly 
this  : the  governor  has  been  ordered  by  the  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  infidel  army  at  Arima  to  secure  the  Spuyten 
Duyvil,  by  fair  means  or  foul,  to  assist  him  in  suppressing 
the  insurrection  of  the  Christians.  There  is  also  a vague 
rumor  afloat  that  some  mischief  to  all  the  foreigners  in 
the  city  and  upon  the  ship  is  intended,  but  just  what  it  may 
be  I have  been  unable  to  discover.  It  was  to  warn  you 
of  this  that  I desired  to  see  you  here.” 

“Thank  you,  Bishop  Paoli,”  was  the  grateful  response. 
“We  are  intending  to  go  aboard  again  this  evening  ; the 
captain  can  then  make  preparations  for  defense.” 

“ Then  you  are  not  to  be  present  at  Lord  Oda’s  enter- 
tainment to-night  ?” 

“ I do  not  understand  you  ; I have  heard  of  no  enter- 
tainment.” 


150  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


A strange  smile  flitted  over  the  bishop’s  face. 

“ Is  it  possible  ? Then,  I shall  tell  you,  Senor,  for,  per- 
haps, when  you  have  heard  all  you  may  wish  to  be  present 
The  entertainment  I refer  to,  is  to  be  on  yonder  hill 
opposite  us.  Hundreds  of  Christian  prisoners  are  to  be 
dragged  from  the  city  dungeons,  and  there  executed. 
This  afternoon  the  governor’s  officers  are  going  through 
ali  the  streets  of  the  city,  and  through  every  village  in  the 
neighborhood,  visiting  each  house,  and  giving  orders  that 
at  least  one  person  from  every  home  be  present  at  the 
execution.  It  is  the  determination  of  the  governor  and 
his  councilors  to  strike  such  terror  to-night  into  the 
hearts  of  his  subjects  that  those  who  may  secretly  favor 
our  cause  shall  never  dare  openly  to  espouse  it,  and  that 
all  others  may  shun  and  hate  our  holy  faith  as  they 
would  the  most  loathsome  disease.” 

This  was  the  first  intimation  that  Beaumont  had 
received  of  the  impending  tragedy,  the  magnitude  of 
which  appalled  him. 

“ Merciful  God  !”  he  exclaimed.  “ What  barbarity  ! Can 
nothing  be  done  to  defeat  the  scheme  of  this  inhuman 
butcher  ?” 

“The  arm  of  the  Lord  is  not  shortened,"  said  the 
bishop,  devoutly  crossing  himself.  “ Something  has  been 
done,  Sefior,  that,  with  the  help  of  Heaven,  shall  not  only 
frustrate  the  designs  of  the  idolaters,  but  make  those 
very  plans  by  which  the  governor  is  seeking  to  terrify  his 
people  into  a hatred  of  the  truth,  to  redound  to  the 
encouragement  of  secret  believers  and  to  the  strengthen- 
ing of  the  cause  of  the  church.” 

“ Thank  Heaven  !”  the  Englishman  exclaimed  earnestly. 
“ How  is  this  to  be  accomplished  ?”  he  inquired  eagerly. 
“ What  plan  is  there  afoot  ? What  do  you  propose  to 
do  ?” 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  15 1 


Not  heeding  Beaumont’s  interruption,  the  bishop 
continued  : 

“There  shall,  indeed,  be  a carnival  of  blood  to-night, 
but  the  blood  that  is  to  flow  will  be  that  of  the  infidel.” 

“Ah,  I understand  !”  cried  the  young  man,  excitedly, 
“ there  is  to  be  an  attempt  to  rescue  the  prisoners  ; Shiro 
is  to  lead  an  attack  upon  the  government  officials  at  the 
execution  grounds.  Am  I not  right  ?” 

“There  is  to  be  rescue,  even  as  you  say  ; but  it  is  I, 
and  not  Shiro,  who  is  to  lead  the  attacking  force.” 

The  young  Englishman’s  entire  experience  with 
Francesco  Paoli  had  been  full  of  surprises  ; but  this  was 
the  greatest  of  all.  A priest,  a bishop  to  b-i  a leader  of 
armed  men,  his  own  hands,  doubtless,  to  be  reddened 
with  blood  ! Impossible  ! 

The  Jesuit  was  closely  regarding  his  companion. 

“You  are  doubly  surprised,  Senor.  First,  you  are 
astonished  that  the  Christians  should  contemplate  so 
daring  an  enterprise,  and,  in  the  second  place,  you  marvel 
that  I should  exchange  the  gown  of  the  churchman  for 
the  armor  of  a warrior.” 

He  again  looked  at  Beaumont.  The  young  man  said 
nothing.  He  was  awaiting  to  hear  what  would  come 
next. 

“ I am  trusting  you,  Senor.  It  is  as  safe  to  do  so  now 
as  it  was  aboard  Van  Neist’s  ship,  is  it  not  ?” 

“ You  may  be  assured  that  it  is.” 

“ Then  I shall  more  fully  outline  our  plan  of  action. 
Last  night  the  Christians  of  Kayaki  decided  to  rise  in  re- 
volt. They  number  about  five  hundred  able-bodied  fight- 
ing men.  Half  of  these  are  to  convey  the  women  and 
children  to-night  by  water  around  the  cape  to  Arima. 
With  the  others  I shall  do  what  you  have  just  said. 
This  morning,  long  before  daybreak,  messengers  were 


152  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


dispatched  to  the  leaders  of  the  Christian  army,  inform- 
ing them  of  the  return  of  Shiro  and  myself,  and  request- 
ing them  to  send  at  once  five  hundred  well-armed  men  to 
assist  in  the  rescue.” 

“ Bravo  ! Your  plan  is  a bold  one.  May  it  be  success- 
ful.” 

“ It  cannot  fail,”  was  the  quiet  response.  “ The  work 
of  torture  and  death  is  not  to  begin  until  midnight;  the 
preceding  two  or  three  hours  will  be  occupied  in  games 
and  various  sports.  The  officials  will  not  dream  of  such 
a thing  as  a rescue.  We  shall  be  well  armed.  A hun- 
dred or  more  of  our  party  are  to  mingle  in  various  dis- 
guises among  the  spectators  taking  care  to  remain  near 
the  prisoners.  The  relief  from  Arima  will  be  nigh  at 
hand  awaiting  our  signal.  The  struggle  will  be  a des- 
perate one,  but,  Sefior,  we  shall  conquer.” 

“ Pray  Heaven  you  may  ! But  how  is  it  that  you, 
instead  of  Shiro,  are  to  lead  the  rescuing  party?” 

A strange  smile  passed  over  Paoli’s  features,  then  as 
he  observed  the  Englishman  keenly  regarding  him,  his 
face  assumed  its  wonted  gravity  and  he  quietly  said  : 

“ Shiro  is  at  present  stopping  at  the  house  of  a friend 
in  Kayaki.  Last  night  we  found  among  the  dead  on 
Takaboka,  Ine  Tanaka,  the  woman  to  whom  he  has  been 
betrothed  since  his  childhood.  She  had  most  wonder- 
fully escaped  the  otherwise  universal  destruction  ; but 
nevertheless,  was  so  severely  injured  that  she  needs  a few 
days  rest.  Shiro  will  remain  with  her,  and  the  two  will 
join  us  later  at  Arima.  But,  Sefior,  the  sun  draws  near 
to  his  setting,  and  I must  be  hastening  on  my  way  to 
Kayaki.  The  friends  there  will  be  anxiously  awaiting 
my  return  ; much  remains  to  be  done  in  preparation  for 
to-night.  We  shall  probably  see  each  other  again.  The 
governor,  I hear,  intends  to  invite  all  the  foreigners  in  the 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  153 


city.  Be  there,  for  you’ll  see  some  hot  work,  I assure  you. 
Farewell  !” 


VII. 

MARMION  BEAUMONT  FALLS  INTO  ANOTHER  ADVENTURE. 

Beaumont  and  Paoli  now  sought  the  city  below  by 
different  routes  ; the  former  bearing  to  the  right  toward 
the  bay,  and  the  latter  taking  the  same  path  that  he  had 
followed  in  the  ascent.  The  Englishman  found  the  inter- 
preter at  the  place  where  they  had  parted,  and  the  two 
men  now  turned  their  steps  in  the  direction  of  the  trading- 
house.  As  they  were  passing  through  one  of  the  larger 
streets  they  perceived  a crowd  of  people  approaching. 

“What  can  it  be?”  inquired  Beaumont,  as  the  madly 
screaming  mob  drew  nearer. 

“I  cannot  say,”  Asuga  answered,  “but  perhaps  I may 
be  able  to  learn.” 

So  saying,  he  stepped  to  the  side  of  the  street  and  ac- 
costed a shopkeeper,  who,  in  common  with  his  neighbors, 
was  standing  before  his  door  and  gazing  in  the  direction 
of  the  approaching  procession.  The  interpreter,  after  a 
minute’s  conversation  with  the  man,  rejoined  Beaumont, 
who  had  remained  in  the  middle  of  the  street. 

“ It  is  a company  of  officials,”  he  reported,  “ taking  a 
number  of  people,  who  are  suspected  of  being  Christians, 
to  the  cross  ordeal.” 

“ And  what  may  that  be  ?” 

“ A large  cross  is  placed  upon  the  ground,  and  the  peo- 
ple, having  been  formed  into  a procession,  are  compelled 
each,  in  turn,  to  walk  over  it.  If  they  trample  upon  the 
cross,  that  is  taken  as  proof  either  that  they  are  not  Chris- 
tians on  that  they  thereby  renounce  their  adherence  to  the 


154  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


foreign  religion.  But  those  who  refuse  to  go  over  it,  by 
so  doing,  publicly  declare  themselves  to  be  believers  in  the 
foreign  creed,  and  they  are  at  once  hurried  off  to  prison,  or 
to  immediate  execution.” 

The  Englishman  could  not  repress  a shudder  at  the 
cool,  matter-of-fact  way  in  which  his  companion  spoke  of 
what  so  appalled  him.  The  frequent  sight  of  such  scenes 
as  the  interpreter  was  now  describing  had  robbed  them 
of  the  horror  they  would  have  otherwise  inspired  in  him. 
A strange  desire  to  see  the  ordeal  took  possession  of 
Beaumont’s  mind.  He  turned  to  Asuga,  and  asked  : 

“ Where  does  this  ordeal  take  place  ?” 

“ Heretofore  they  have  always  been  upon  Higashi- 
yama,  the  hill  just  south  of  the  city.  I presume  the 
present  one  will  be  in  the  same  place.” 

“ Will  it  be  possible  for  us  to  witness  it  ?” 

“ I think  it  would  be  perfectly  safe  for  us  to  be  present. 
Other  foreigners  frequently  have  witnessed  not  only  the 
ordeal,  but  also  the  execution  of  those  who  were  convicted 
of  being  Christians.  I n fact,  the  officials  are  rather  pleased 
to  have  foreigners  behold  with  what  hatred  they  regard 
Christianity,  in  order  that  they  may  be  intimidated  from 
attempting  to  introduce  it  anew.  Does  Heer  Beaumont 
wish  to  see  the  ordeal  ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“Then  let  us  turn  into  this  street,  and  walk  on  ahead 
of  the  crowd.  If  we  keep  straight  on  over  the  hill  before 
us,  we  shall  get  to  the  grounds  before  they  are  filled  with 
the  rabble.  The  officers,  I perceive,  intend  to  take  the 
road  running  along  the  shore  of  the  bay.” 

The  two  hurried  on  in  the  direction  indicated.  In  a 
short  time  the  uproar  of  the  mob  grew  fainter,  as  the 
officers,  with  their  prisoners,  turned  off  into  another 
street,  taking  the  course  that  Asuga  had  predicted  they 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  155 


would.  The  sun  had  now  set  behind  the  mountains 
across  the  bay,  and  the  shadows  of  the  coming  night 
were  fast  settling  down  upon  the  city.  In  a few  minutes 
Beaumont  and  the  interpreter  had  reached  the  long  flight 
of  stone  steps  that  still  lead  up  the  steep  northern  slope 
of  Higashi-yama  from  the  Hirobaba  market.  They 
ascended  these,  and  soon  they  stood  on  a commanding 
eminence,  looking  down  on  the  city  and  the  bay,  both 
now  but  faintly  discernible  in  the  gathering  darkness. 

The  uproar  of  voices,  growing  constantly  louder,  and 
a long  line  of  waving  torches  and  lanterns  slowly  ascend- 
ing the  steep  hill-side,  fronting  the  bay,  announced  the 
approach  of  the  officers  and  orisoners,  followed  still  by 
the  tumultuous  and  madly  roaring  mob. 

“A  little  to  the  right  and  we  shall  have  a good  position 
from  which  we  can  look  down  on  the  whole  proceed- 
ings,” said  Asuga,  leading  the  way  to  a tall  pine  tree  that 
stood  but  a short  distance  from  the  road. 

They  did  not  have  long  to  wait.  The  officers  soon 
appeared  and  took  up  their  position  on  a piece  of  level 
ground  that  lay  just  below  the  place  where  Beaumont 
and  Asuga  stood.  Toward  the  bay  this  level  stretch 
broke  off  in  a precipitous  cliff  overhanging  the  low  land 
that  bordered  upon  the  beach.  In  still  another  direction 
it  was  bounded  by  a deep  cut  that  had  been  excavated 
for  a public  road  that  here  pierced  the  hill  and  wound 
up  along  the  western  side  of  Higashi-yama. 

The  officers  conducted  their  prisoners  to  the  edge  of 
the  cliff  to  shield  them  from  the  violence  of  the  howling 
rabble  that  had  dogged  the  procession  up  the  hillside, 
and  were  now  savagely  calling  for  the  blood  of  the 
Christians.  A rope  was  stretched  across  the  only  side  of 
the  ordeal  ground  to  which  access  was  possible,  and 
fifteen  or  twenty  soldiers  were  detailed  by  the  officer  in 


156  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


charge  of  the  proceedings  to  keep  guard  and  to  hold  the 
populace  back.  The  mob,  howling  in  its  rage,  now 
covered  the  entire  hill-side,  and  the  air  was  rent  with 
their  repeated  demands  for  the  destruction  of  the  pris- 
oners. The  latter,  numbering,  perhaps,  fifty  persons, 
included  both  sexes  and  all  ages.  Youths  and  maidens, 
strong  men,  middle-aged  matrons,  and  hoary-headed 
grandsires  and  granddames — all  were  huddled  together, 
and  plainly  oblivious  to  both  the  savage  outcries  of  the 
mob  and  the  preparations  being  made  by  the  officers  for 
the  ordeal. 

Beaumont  perceived  a venerable-looking  old  man 
standing  in  the  midst  of  the  Christians,  and  from  his 
gesticulations  it  wras  evident  that  he  was  addressing  his 
fellow-prisoners,  though  nothing  could  be  heard,  the 
uproar  of  the  mob  drowning  his  voice.  In  the  light  of 
the  flaring  torches,  Beaumont  could  see  the  old  man’s 
face,  and  its  calm,  peaceful  expression  in  the  midst  of 
those  terrible  surroundings  haunted  him  long  afterwards. 

While  the  Englishman  was  watching  the  Christians,  the 
interpreter  was  anxiously  regarding  the  mad  throng  of 
spectators  that  now  completely  hemmed  them  in.  Never 
before  had  he  seen  so  dangerous  looking  a mob.  The 
news  that  a great  execution  of  Christians  was  to  take 
place  that  night  had  spread  far  and  wide  through  the 
country,  attracting  to  the  city  the  lawless  element  of  the 
entire  province.  Scores  of  these  desperate  characters 
were  now  mingled  with  the  city  rabble  about  them,  and 
Asuga’s  heart  leaped  into  his  throat  as  four  or  five  half- 
drunken  ruffians  came  up  to  the  tree  beneath  which  he 
and  Beaumont  were  standing,  and  one  of  them  shouted  : 

“ Iya,  iya,  comrades,  here’s  a foreigner!  Down  with 
the  foreigner!  Down  with  Christians  and  foreigners! 
Ho,  help,  here  ! Down  with  the  foreigner  !” 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  157 


The  cry  was  taken  up  by  others,  and  hundreds  of  eyes 
were  turned  upon  the  Englishman,  and  a mad  roar  went 
up  : 

“ The  foreigner  ! Down  with  the  foreigner  !” 

The  terrified  Asuga  looked  at  Beaumont,  who,  uncon- 
scious of  his  peril,  was  still  intently  watching  the  Chris- 
tians. The  interpreter  reached  out  his  hand  to  touch  his 
companion’s  arm,  but  some  one  struck  it  down,  and, 
turning  a frightened  look  in  the  direction  whence  came 
the  blow,  Asuga  beheld  the  savage  face  of  Yamada,  the 
Ronin. 

“Silence,  fellow  !”  hissed  the  soldier  in  the  ear  of  the 
interpreter.  “A  word  to  thy  companion,  and  I shall 
plunge  this  knife  into  thy  heart  ! Thinkest  thou,”  he 
continued,  in  a hoarse  whisper,  “ I shall  allow  this  rabble 
to  tear  the  accursed  foreigner  to  pieces  without  myself 
striking  the  first  blow  ? Remember  what  happened  at 
the  Suwa  Temple  this  afternoon,  fellow,  and  stand  aside.” 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  Ronin  s intention.  The 
interpreter  saw  his  right  hand  bandaged  and  hanging  by 
his  side,  but  in  his  left  Yamada  held  a keen,  double-edged 
knife.  The  mob,  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen,  would  soon 
attack  the  foreigner.  The  Ronin  was  determined,  in  re- 
venge for  the  defeat  he  had  suffered,  to  anticipate  the 
others  in  their  designs. 

A shout  of  “ Down  with  the  foreigner  !”  louder  and 
more  savage  than  any  that  had  yet  preceded  it,  startled 
Beaumont,  and  caused  him  to  turn  around  to  inquire  of 
Asuga  the  meaning  of  the  cry.  A single  glance  at  the 
frightened  interpreter  and  the  scowling  face  of  the  Ronin 
at  his  side  was  sufficient  to  inform  the  young  man  that 
some  serious  danger  threatened  him.  Quickly  springing 
backward,  he  placed  himself  in  a defensive  attitude, 


158  Paoli  / the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


with  his  back  against  the  tree.  The  Ronin  saw  the  move- 
ment, and  not  daring  openly  to  attack  with  his  left  hand 
one  with  whom,  even  when  uninjured  he  had  been  unable 
to  cope,  he  tore  the  bandages  from  his  wrist,  and  as  the 
blood  gushed  forth  afresh  from  the  wound,  he  held  up 
his  bloody  hand  and  shouted  to  the  mob  : 

“Ho,  fellow-countrymen!  Ho,  comrades!  Behold 
the  work  of  the  barbarian  ! He  has  drawn  his  sword  on 
a Samurai  of  Japan  ! He  has  destroyed  my  hand  ! 
Down  with  him,  comrades  ! I call  for  vengeance ! 
Down  with  the  foreigner  !” 

The  mob  was  already  prepared  for  any  sort  of  mis- 
chief. They  were  of  themselves  meditating  an  attack 
on  the  Englishman,  and  the  words  of  the  Ronin  excited 
them  to  open  violence.  With  a savage  roar,  they  closed 
around  the  tree.  Beaumont  needed  no  interpreter  to  tell 
him  the  meaning  of  the  Ronin' s words.  The  shower  of 
clubs  and  stones  that  rattled  about  his  feet,  the  wild, 
vengeful  yell  of  the  mob,  and  the  fierce,  merciless  faces 
that  glared  out  upon  him  from  the  frenzied  throng,  told 
him  enough. 

At  this  moment  of  deadly  peril,  while  he  stood  with 
drawn  rapier,  awaiting  the  onslaught  of  his  foes,  he 
became  aware  of  a commotion  in  the  rear  of  the  scream- 
ing rabble  before  him.  Casting  a glance  over  the  heads 
of  the  mob,  he  beheld  a company  of  mounted  warriors 
urging  their  horses  through  the  press  towards  him.  The 
strangers  were  vigorously  plying  their  short  spears  upon 
the  heads  and  shoulders  of  the  rabble,  whose  savage  cries 
for  the  blood  of  the  Christians  and  the  death  of  the 
foreigner  were  now  changed  into  shrieks  of  terror,  as 
they  cowered  under  the  blows  of  the  new-comers.  The 
roughs  that  had  gathered  around  Beaumont,  as  the)r  saw 
the  cavalcade  heading  for  the  place  where  their  intended 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


159 


victim  stood,  slunk  silently  away  into  the  darkness.  The 
Ronin,  however,  remained  until  the  others  were  gone,  and 
then,  in  a voice  choked  with  baffled  rage,  said  to  the 
interpreter : 

“Fellow,  the  gods  have  again  stood  upen  the  side  of 
thy  companion  ! But  let  him  beware  ! No  man  has  yet 
incurred  the  hatred  of  Uyemon  Yamada  and  lived.  Mark 
you,  that  accursed  barbarian  shall  not  escape  !” 

VIII. 

THE  ORDEAL  OF  THE  CROSS. 

By  this  time  the  party  of  mounted  warriors  had  reached 
the  open  space  before  the  pine  tree.  Beaumont  still  stood 
where  he  had  taken  up  his  position  to  defend  himself 
against  the  mob,  his  naked  rapier  yet  in  his  hand.  The 
peril  to  which  he  had  just  been  exposed  had  come  upon 
him  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  ; and  now,  with  no  less 
quickness,  this  unlooked-for  deliverance  had  been 
wrought.  Scarcely  believing  his  eyes,  he  gazed  on  the 
horsemen  before  him  as  if  he  expected  the  vision  to 
depart,  like  something  created  by  his  own  imagination. 
Still  more  inclined  was  he  to  think  the  whole  spectacle 
before  him  to  be  nothing  more  than  some  fantastic  iilu- 
sion  of  his  excited  mind,  when  the  leader  of  the  caval- 
cade, dismounting,  approached  and  addressed  him  in  the 
accents  of  his  native  English  speech  : 

“Put  up  thy  sword,  friend  ; there  shall  be  no  need  of 
it  for  the  present.  Strong  and  fearless  as  thou  seemest 
to  be,  it  was  yet  fortunate  for  thee  that  I and  my  guard 
chanced  here  just  when  we  did.  This  savage  mob  is 
mad  for  blood.” 

Beaumont  was  too  much  astonished  to/ speak.  The 


160  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


new-comer  looked  doubtfully  at  him  for  a minute,  and 
again  spoke  : 

“Am  I mistaken?  I took  thy  face  to  be  the  face  of 
an  Englishman,  and,  therefore,  I spoke  to  thee  in  the 
English  tongue.  Art  thou,  then,  the  native  of  some 
other  country  and  understandest  not  my  words  ?” 

“ Nay.  I understand  thee.  I am  an  Englishman,” 
replied  Beaumont,  recovering  himself  sufficiently  to 
answer  the  stranger’s  question.  “ Pardon  me,”  the 
young  man  continued.  “ I was  too  much  surprised  to 
be  able  to  speak.  I cannot  tell  thee  which  astonishes  me 
the  more  : the  rescue  of  a minute  ago — for  which,  sir,” 
he  added,  with  a low  bow,  “ my  most  grateful  thanks 
are  due  to  thee, — or  now  the  sound  of  mv  native  speech.” 
The  other  laughed  lightly. 

“ I ought,  methinks,  to  understand  your  language.  My 
earliest  and  dearest  friend  was  one  of  your  nation,  and 
three  years  of  my  youth  were  spent  in  England.  But  of 
all  this  we  may  speak  later.  You  came  here,  I suppose, 
to  witness  the  ordeal  ; the  same  object  brought  me.  I 
perceive  they  are  about  ready  to  begin.  We  shall  stand 
here  together  and  watch  the  proceedings,  and,  after  the 
examination  is  concluded,  I and  my  guards  will  accom- 
pany you  to  whatever  place  you  may  be  stopping.  It 
would  scarcely  be  safe  for  a foreigner  to  go  through  the 
streets  to-night  without  an  armed  escort.” 

The  stranger’s  guards  had  arranged  themselves  in  a 
semi-circle  around  Beaumont  and  their  chief,  leaving  the 
space  in  front  of  them  open,  that  their  view  of  the  ordeal 
ground  might  not  be  obstructed.  As  the  leader  stepped 
aside  to  give  some  orders  to  his  men,  Asuga  whispered 
to  Beaumont  in  Dutch  : 

“You  are  fortunate,  Mynheer,  in  your  rescue  to-night. 
Your  deliverer  is  none  other  than  Lord  Nabeshima,  the 


■ 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  163 


Prince  of  Kai,  the  noblest  and  bravest  general  in  Japan. 
I heard  to-day  that  he  was  expected  in  Nagasaki  this 
evening,  and,  most  luckily,  he  came  here  just  in  time  to 
save  you.  He  is  on  his  way  to  Arima  to  fight  the  rebel- 
Christians.” 

With  this  introduction  to  his  preserver,  the  young 
Englishman  directed  his  eyes  towards  him  with  increased 
interest.  Lord  Nabeshima  was  evidently  about  thirty 
years  of  age,  and  was  a much  taller  and  heavier-built 
man  than  the  average  Japanese.  His  frame  was  well- 
knit  and  muscular  with  broad,  full  chest  and  power- 
ful arms.  He  was  clad  in  a full  suit  of  armor  of  a rich 
crimson  color  and  profusely  ornamented  with  gold.  His 
weapons,  consisting  of  a short  spear  and  the  universal 
twro  swords,  were  likewise  brilliantly  mounted  with  the 
precious  metals.  The  prince’s  firmly-cut  features,  keen, 
piercing  eyes  and  lofty  forehead  betokened  him  to  be 
the  possessor  of  as  much  mental  strength  and  force  of 
character  as  physical  prowess.  His  kindly  countenance 
lit  up  with  a graciously  wanning  smile  as  he  turned  and 
saw  the  Englishman  earnestly  regarding  him,  and  his 
voice  wras  soft  and  musical  as  he  spoke  : 

“ I was  instructing  my  guards  to  be  on  the  w'atch,  and, 
should  they  perceive  any  one  of  the  ruffians  here  trying 
to  excite  the  mob  against  foreigners,  to  ride  him  down 
and  seize  and  bind  him.  The  city  is  full  of  desperate 
characters  this  evening,  and,  once  aroused,  there  is  no 
saying  where  their  violence  may  stop.” 

“Allow' me  to  thank  you  again  for  the  timely  rescue 
that  you  brought  me,  and  also  for  your  present  wratchful 
care,”  said  Beaumont,  delighted  by  the  other’s  charming 
manners.  “ My  companion  has  just  now  made  me 
acquainted  w'ith  your  name,  and,  believe  me,  Prince,  the 


164  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  I\Iissionaries. 


honor  that  I have  in  meeting  you  to-night  shall  remain 
one  of  the  pleasantest  memories  of  my  life.” 

“ Say  no  more,  I entreat  you,”  Lord  Nabeshima 
answered.  “ I consider  myself  most  happy  in  the  privi- 
lege of  serving  one  of  a nation  I so  deeply  respect.  But, 
see  ! the  officer  has  mounted  the  rock,  and  is  calling  for 
silence  !” 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  toward  the  ordeal  ground. 
The  preparations  were  at  last  completed.  A large 
wooden  cross  had  been  laid  down  in  the  open  space 
between  the  prisoners  and  the  rope  stretched  across  the 
entrance  to  the  place  of  examination.  The  chief  officer, 
having  secured  silence  among  the  spectators,  descended 
from  the  rock  and  approached  the  prisoners.  The  old 
man  who  had  been  haranguing  his  fellow-captives  stepped 
out,  and  a short  colloquy  ensued.  The  voices  of  both 
speakers,  however,  were  so  low  that  neither  the  prince 
nor  Asuga  could  make  out  what  was  being  said.  At  its 
conclusion,  the  officer  again  mounted  the  stone,  and  wav- 
ing his  hand  to  the  vast  multitude  that  covered  the  entire 
hillside,  he  cried  out  : 

“ All  ye  who  uphold  the  hands  of  your  princes  in 
destroying  the  roots  of  contention  among  our  people, 
give  attention  !”  and  then  turning  toward  the  prisoners, 
who  were  watching  him  no  less  intently  than  the  popu- 
lace, he  continued  : 

“ You  are  here,  charged  with  believing  in  the  doctrines 
of  the  hated  foreign  religion,  which  it  is  the  determined 
purpose  of  our  government  to  utterly  extirpate  from  the 
soil  of  our  Japan.  You  have  the  choice,  here  and  now, 
either  to  renounce,  in  the  presence  of  your  countrymen, 
all  allegiance  to  the  teachings  of  the  barbarian  priests  by 
trampling  on  this  cross,  the  symbol  of  the  prescribed 
religion,  or,  by  refusing  to  do  this,  to  stamp  yourselves 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  165 


as  traitors  to  your  nation,  meriting  the  destruction  which 
we,  in  the  name  of  our  princes,  and  for  the  safety  of  our 
native  land,  will  this  night  visit  upon  you.” 

The  speaker  stopped,  and  the  uproar  of  the  mob,  that 
broke  out  in  a tierce  burst  of  applause,  rose  too  loud  for 
the  prince  to  hear  what  the  old  man,  who  was  again 
addressing  his  companions,  was  saying.  One  of  the  sol- 
diers, however,  seized  him  in  the  midst  of  his  speech  and 
hurried  him  toward  the  cross.  Here  the  soldier  relin- 
quished his  hold,  and  retreating,  left  him  to  do  as  he 
would.  The  old  man  gazed  for  a time  on  the  cross 
before  him,  and  then  raising  his  face  toward  the  breath- 
less multitude,  which  the  thrilling  excitement  of  the 
moment  had  hushed  into  a deathlike  silence,  he  cried 
out : 

“ Behold,  ye  idolatorsand  slayers  of  the  innocent,  whom 
my  God  shall  judge! — behold  thus,  thus  does  Mampei 
Fuji  trample  upon  the  cross  of  his  Lord  !’’  And  throw- 
ing himself  prostrate  on  the  earth,  the  old  man  clasped 
the  cross  to  his  breast  ; then,  springing  to  his  feet,  raised  it 
above  his  head. 

A roar  of  rage  burst  from  the  spectators  ; and  the  sol- 
diers, seizing  the  old  man,  dashed  the  cross  from  his 
grasp,  and  hastily  binding  his  hands,  hurried  him  aside, 
and  made  ready  for  another. 

The  next  to  be  led  forward  was  a young  woman.  She 
could  not  have  been  more  than  seventeen  years  of  age,  and 
she  was  beautiful  with  that  fresh  picturesque  beauty,  so 
difficult  todecribe  yet  so  thoroughly  charming  to  the  eye, 
often  seen  among  the  daughters  of  Japan.  With  bowed 
head  and  reluctant  step  she  advanced  to  the  cross,  the 
soldier  at  times  dragging  her  roughly  forward.  When 
she  had  at  last  come  to  the  place  where  the  sacred  symbol 
of  her  faith  lay  just  before  her  feet,  she  paused,  and  hav- 


1 66  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


ing  looked  calmly  around  upon  her  friends,  the  officers 
and  soldiers,  and  the  vast  sea  of  faces  on  the  hill-side,  she 
knelt  reverently  beside  the  cross,  covering  her  face  with 
her  hands.  For  a moment,  she  remained  thus  ; then 
slowly  rising  to  her  feet,  she  moved  to  the  side  of  thSold 
man,  and,  with  a smiling,  averted  face,  held  out  her  hands 
to  the  officer  to  be  bound.  The  spectators  had  looked 
upon  the  pathetic  scene  in  breathless  silence,  even  the 
most  savage  feeling  a momentary  touch  of  pity  ; and,  as 
they  beheld  her  refuse  to  trample  upon  the  cross,  a low 
cry  arose  from  the  multitude  : “ She  is  lost  !” 

Of  all  that  followed  Marmion  Beaumont  was  uncon- 
scious. The  pale,  resolute  faces  of  the  prisoners,  the 
angry  commands  of  the  officers,  the  savage  screams  of  the 
mob,  he  saw  not,  heard  not.  His  thoughts  were  dwell- 
ing upon  Bishop  Paoli  and  the  heroic  rescue  the  Jesuit 
was  soon  to  attempt.  Alas  ! in  the  face  of  a trained  sol- 
diery and  this  vast  throng  of  rough  and  desperate  men, 
the  daring  scheme  of  the  little  band  of  Christians,  be 
they  ever  so  brave,  could  appear  but  a forlorn  hope.  In 
his  own  mind  Beaumont  endeavored  to  picture  the  scene: 
the  preparations  for  the  execution  ; the  secret  signals  ; 
the  thrilling  battle  shout;  the  surprise  of  the  heathen; 
the  exultation  of  the  Christians  ; the  sudden  hope  kin- 
dled in  the  breasts  of  the  prisoners  ; the  resistless  on- 
slaught ; the  momentary  triumph  ; the  rallying  of  the 
soldiers  ; the  unequal  conflict  ; the  inevitable  defeat  ; 
the  massacre  of  the  gallant  little  army,  and  the  ten-fold 
more  savage  fury  of  the  executioners. 

“ What  wonderful  constancy  these  Christians  have  dis- 
played ! Out  of  all  this  party  to-night,  only  three  re- 
nounced their  faith,  and  of  these,  one  afterwards  repented 
and  gave  himself  up  to  suffer  with  his  fellow-believers. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  167 


It  is  sad  to  think  that  the  evil  has  grown  so  great  that 
the  remedy  must  needs  be  so  severe  !” 

It  was  the  voice  of  Prince  Nabeshima  that  recalled 
Beaumont’s  mind  to  a realization  of  his  present  sur- 
roundings, and  as  he  looked  up  into  the  face  of  his  com- 
panion he  fancied  that  the  nobleman’s  eyes  were  misty 
with  tears.  As  he  perceived  the  Englishman  keenly  re- 
garding him,  the  Lord  of  Kai  hastened  to  say  : 

“ The  ordeal  is  finished,  and  it  is  yet  two  or  three  hours 
before  the  execution  begins.  It  will  not  be  safe  for  you 
to  wait  here  ; mount  this  horse,  therefore,  I pray,  and  we 
shall  conduct  you  to  whatever  place  you  may  wish  to  go.” 


BOOK  FIFTH. 


THE  HOUR  OF  THE  CHRISTIANS’  WOE. 

I. 

ine  tanaka’s  strange  lover. 


N the  early  part  of  this  same 
memorable  evening,  the  Chris- 
tians of  Kayaki  and  the  adjacent 
villages  made  preparations  for 
their  intended  flight.  Chijiwaj 
one  of  the  generals  in  the  Chris- 
tian army  at  Arima,  had  come 
to  Kayaki  to  assume  command  of  the  division  that  was  to 
conduct  the  women  and  children  around  the  cape  to  Hara 
Castle.  Shiro,  also,  had  donned  a full  suit  of  armor,  and, 
seated  on  the  lofty  dais  in  the  cave-chapel,  he  received 
the  reports  of  his  assistants  and  consulted  with  them  as 
to  the  best  methods  to  be  adopted  for  the  carrying  out  of 
their  plans.  The  time  proved  to  be  very  propitious  for 
their  undertaking.  Shortly  after  sunset,  nearly  all  the 
heathen  population  of  the  village  set  out  for  Nagasaki  to 
be  present  at  the  execution.  The  few  idolators  that  re- 
mained were  quietly  seized  and  imprisoned  in  the  cavern - 
chapel,  and  the  same  course  was  pursued  with  such 
travellers  as  entered  the  place  on  their  way  to  the  city. 
[i68J 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  169 


The  preparations  for  embarkation  were,  in  the  meanwhile, 
hastened  forward  with  the  utmost  secrecy  and  dispatch  ; 
and  thus  it  happened  that  neither  officials  nor  citizens  in 
Nagasaki  had  the  slightest  intimation  of  the  formidable 
uprising  that  was  taking  place  at  their  very  doors. 

In  the  principal  room  of  the  house,  to  which  the  evening 
before  she  had  guided  Nirado  Shiro  and  Bishop  Paoli, 
Ine  Tanaka,  still  sore  and  bruised  from  her  terrible  fall, 
reclined  on  a couch  spread  out  upon  the  mats  that  covered 
the  floor  of  the  apartment.  She  was  alone,  her  sister 
being  busily  engaged  in  her  preparations  for  departure. 
The  woman’s  delicately  moulded  features  were  lit  up  with 
a smile  of  peaceful  happiness,  for  her  thoughts  were 
dwelling  upon  the  swiftly  approaching  time  when  the 
Church  of  Japan  would  be  redeemed  from  her  cruel 
bondage  to  the  infidel.  In  that  great  day  of  deliverance 
Ine  Tanaka  was  to  have  part.  The  central  and  grandest 
figure  in  all  her  visions  of  the  coming  triumph  was  that 
of  her  returned  lover  ; and  by  his  side  she  was  destined 
to  stand,  sharing  then  his  honor  and  glory  as  for  years 
she  had  shared  the  trials  and  the  perils  of  his  people. 

Ever  since  her  childhood  had  Ine  Tanaka  been  the  be- 
trothed wife  of  Nirado  Shiro.  Their  parents  dwelt  in  the 
same  village,  and  had  long  been  faithful  and  zealous 
disciples  of  the  Romish  missionaries.  In  the  storm  of 
persecution  and  bloodshed,  which  for  more  than  two 
score  of  years  had  been  desolating  the  church  of  Japan, 
both  families  had  been  rich  in  martyrs  for  the  faith.  Promi- 
nent in  every  undertaking  that  promised  to  be  of  service 
to  the  cause  of  their  religion,  and  recognized  as  leaders 
among  the  Christians  throughout  the  country,  it  was  but 
natural  that  the  two  families,  in  conformity  to  the  time- 
honored  custom  of  their  race,  should  seek  an  alliance  the 
one  with  the  other  through  the  betrothal  of  their  children. 


170  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Shiro,  it  was  confidently  believed,  was  the  deliverer  whose 
coming  had  been  foretold  in  the  prophetic  inscription  on 
the  rock  that  had  long  overhung  the  village,  and  which 
on  the  night  of  his  birth,  had  been  torn  from  its  resting- 
place  by  the  earthquake  and  had  been  lodged  before  his 
father’s  door.  Ine’s  parents,  with  the  assistance  and 
counsel  of  the  missionaries,  had  endeavored  to  bring  up 
their  child  in  a manner  befitting  one  who  was  destined  to 
occupy  the  lofty  position  of  consort  of  the  first  Christian 
ruler  of  Japan.  Shiro  was  sent  to  Manila,  that  he  might 
be  safe  from  his  enemies,  and  receive  the  training  which 
the  troubled  condition  of  the  Japanese  church  rendered 
impossible  for  him  to  obtain  in  his  native  land. 

During  these  years  of  his  absence,  Ine,  from  a girl  of 
twelve,  had  grown  to  be  a woman  of  twenty-one.  To  her 
pure  and  gentle  nature  had  been  added  the  powerful  in- 
fluence of  an  ardent  belief  that  she  was  elected  of  Heaven 
to  the  nigh  and  noble  position  as  wife  of  the  future  ruler 
of  Japan  ; and  this  faith,  together  with  her  sincere  piety 
and  spiritual  temperament,  had  molded  her  character  into 
one  of  queenly  dignity  and  gracious  sweetness,  making 
her  the  idol  and  the  hope  of  the  persecuted  church.  Her 
name  was  known  and  loved  in  every  Christian  home  in 
Kiushiu,  and  everywhere  throughout  the  church  of  her 
nation  she  wielded  an  influence  scarcely  less  potent  than 
Francesco  Paoli  himself. 

Amid  all  her  labors  in  behalf  of  her  fellow-Christians, 
Ine’s  heart  went  out  in  a passionate  love  for  him  to  whom 
her  hand  was  bound  in  plighted  troth.  Such  a nature  as 
hers  is  capable  of  an  untold  depth  of  affection,  and  with 
all  the  powers  of  her  pure  and  earnest  soul  did  she  love 
Nirado  Shiro.  It  was  a love  that  was  patient,  bearing 
the  long  years  of  his  absence  without  a murmur.  It  was 
best  for  him,  for  the  cause  to  which  his  destiny  was  in- 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  171 


dissolubly  linked,  and,  perchance,  also  for  her,  that  he 
should  be  far  away. 

Not  only  among  the  Christians,  but  throughout  the 
nation  at  large,  had  Ine  Tanaka  won  the  distinction  of 
being  the  most  beautiful  and  highly  gifted  woman  of  her 
time  ; and  this  renown  had  brought  her  many  suitors. 
Among  these  had  come  Lord  Nabeshima,  Prince  of  Kai. 
Ine  knew  this  nobleman's  popularity  among  the  people  ; 
his  family  was  an  influential  one  ; many  of  his  friends 
had  been  Christians  ; the  prince  himself  was  opposed  to 
the  wanton  persecution  of  the  church.  By  marrying  him, 
therefore,  she  would  gain  not  only  a most  honorable  po- 
sition, but,  as  Princess  of  Kai,  she  would  be  able  to  wield 
a powerful  influence  in  behalf  of  the  church.  Yet,  it  is 
needless  to  say,  that  Ine  and  her  family  were  unmoved  by 
these  considerations.  Courteously,  but  firmly,  Nabe- 
shima’s  suit  was  declined  ; and  so  the  years  dragged 
slowly  by,  until,  as  the  reader  remembers,  on  the  night 
of  the  storm,  in  the  little  grotto  on  Takaboka,  Ine  Tanaka 
awoke  to  the  joyful  discovery  that  Shiro  had  come  back 
to  his  work  and  to  her. 

A soft  step  in  the  adjoining  apartment  aroused  the 
woman  from  her  dreams  of  coming  victory  and  happiness, 
and  as  she  turned  her  gaze  in  the  direction  of  the  sound, 
the  sliding  doors  opened  and  she  beheld  the  tall  form  of 
Bishop  Paoli.  He  had  just  returned  to  Kayaki  and  had 
not  yet  laid  aside  his  disguise.  Removing  the  pilgrim 
hat  which  he  wore,  the  Jesuit  entered  the  room,  his 
countenance  lighting  up  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  Ine. 

“Heaven  be  praised  !”  cried  the  woman,  joyfully. 
“Thou  hast  at  last  come!  Our  people,  good  bishop, 
were  growing  anxious  about  thee.  ” 

“ Little  cause  had  they  to  trouble  their  hearts  about 
me,  ” Paoli  responded.  “The  dear  people,  how  prone  to 


i 72  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


unbelief  they  are  ! Know  they  not  that  those  who  are 
given  a work  to  do  shall  be  protected  in  doing  it  ? But, 
daughter,  thou  art  here  alone  ! ” the  speaker  continued, 
bending  a questioning  look  upon  Ine.  “ This  is  strange  ; 
where  is  Shiro  ? ” 

“In  the  chapel,  good  bishop,  with  Chijiwa  and  the 
other  leaders.  Ah,  he  comes  even  now  ! ” the  woman  ex- 
claimed, a pleased  look  irradiating  her  features. 

As  she  was  speaking,  the  young  Christian  chief  entered 
the  apartment,  and,  perceiving  his  warlike  equipment, 
the  Jesuit  said  in  a softly  grave  tone  : 

“ Thou  art  yet  a man  of  peace,  my  son  ; is  there  need, 
then,  for  thee  to  put  on  so  soon  the  armor  of  the  warrior  ?” 
The  fine  face  of  the  Japanese  youth  was  glowing  with 
excitement  and  enthusiasm. 

“I  know,  good  father  bishop,  that  thou  hast  advised 
me  to  permit  you  to  lead  the  rescue  of  our  brethren  at 
Nagasaki  to-night  ; but,  good  father,  ought  not  I,  who  am, 
by  divine  appointment,  the  commander-in-chief  of  the 
army  of  the  church,  brave  whatever  perils  my  office  may 
expose  me  to?  The  brethren  here  expect  this  of  me  ; 
Chijiwa  and  the  other  leaders  say  I ought  to  lead  the 
rescue  to  night ; I,  also,  feel  that  it  is  my  duty  to  do  so. 
I have,  therefore,  prepared  myself  to  go  ; good  father 
bishop,  I myself  must  lead  to-night — ” 

And  then  Nirado  Shiro  suddenly  paused. 

Ine  had  been  listening  in  rapt  attention  to  her  lover’s 
words,  and  she  cordially  approved  his  desire  to  assume 
at  once  his  position  as  leader  of  his  people.  His,  and 
none  other’s,  was  the  place  at  the  head  of  the  rescuing 
party,  and  it  was  his  duty,  as  it  was  his  right,  to  fill  it. 
She  had  no  fear  of  the  perils  that  might  encompass  him. 
“Those  who  are  given  a work  to  do  shall  be  protected  in 
doing  it,  ” had  been  Paoli’s  language,  only  a few  minutes 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  173 

before,  when  assuring  her  of  his  own  immunity  from 
harm.  To  Nirado  Shiro,  likewise,  Heaven  had  given  a 
great  and  holy  work,  and  until  this  was  done  he,  too,  was 
safe. 

When  her  lover  had  uttered  the  words:  “I  myself 
must  lead  to-night,”  and  then  abruptly  paused,  the 
woman  looked  up  in  surprise.  The  two  men  before  her 
were  looking  into  each  other’s  faces  ; the  Jesuit's  calm  fea- 
tures wore  a strangely  resolute  expression  and  she  per- 
ceived that  his  steady  gaze  was  exerting  an  influence 
over  the  younger  man.  She  saw  the  ardent  enthusiasm, 
which  but  a moment  before  had  been  blazing  in  Shiro’s 
countenance  suddenly  fade  away  and  a look  of  tranquil 
submissiveness  come  in  its  place.  For  a short  time  the 
two  men  stood  thus,  and  then  the  astonished  Ine  beheld 
a soft  smile  wreathe  the  bishop's  face  as  he  made  a 
slight  gesture  of  his  hand  toward  the  couch  whereon  she 
was  lying.  The  next  instant  Shiro  had  flung  himself 
upon  his  knees  by  her  side. 

“Forgive  me,  dearest  Ine  !”  he  cried,  and  the  woman 
was  amazed  at  the  change  in  his  voice — a minute  before 
so  full  of  passionate  ardor  and  manly  daring,  now  so  ir- 
resolute and  pleading,  “ Forgive  me  ! In  my  foolish 
excitement,  I forgot  thee.” 

“Nay,  nay,  Nirado  Shiro,  speak  not  thus,  I pray  !”  the 
woman  returned,  distressed  beyond  measure  at  this  sud- 
den transformation.  Then  a glow  came  to  her  pale 
cheeks  and  a fine  light  to  her  large,  lustrous  eyes,  and, 
raising  herself  to  a sitting  posture,  her  voice  rang  out 
with  all  the  fervor  and  enthusiasm  that  but  a short  time 
before  had  marked  the  bearing  of  the  man  now  kneeling 
at  the  side  of  her  couch.  “ Nirado  Shiro,  heed  not  me  ! 
My  wounds  are  not  dangerous  ; let  me  go  with  my  sister 
and  the  other  women  in  the  boats  to-night.  Do  thou  be 


1 74  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  leader  of  our  friends  in  the  coming  conflict,  as  they 
expect  thee  to  be.  Thou  knowest  it  to  be  thy  duty  to 
go,  and  Ine  Tanaka  would  not  have  thee  stay.” 

For  a moment  it  seemed  as  if  the  woman  had  suc- 
ceeded in  inspiring  in  her  lover’s  breast  a resolution  as 
ardent  and  an  enthusiasm  as  intense  as  those  which  had 
formerly  possessed  him.  He  raised  his  head  proudly, 
and  as  his  eyes  met  Ine’s  he  felt  her  gaze  thrill  him  like 
a draught  of  strong  wine.  He  would  have  spoken,  but 
the  calm,  even  voice  of  the  Jesuit  broke  the  breathless 
silence. 

“ Shiro  is  right,  Ine  ; thou  shouldst  have  a day  or  two 
more  of  rest.  And  can  you  think  it  strange,  my  daughter, 
that  thy  betrothed  husband  desires  to  remain  by  thy  side 
to  shield  thee  from  possible  peril  ? Such  is  your  wish, 
is  it  not,  my  son  ?”  and  as  the  eyes  of  the  two  men  again 
met  Shiro  bowed  his  head,  and,  turning  to  Ine,  yet  never 
raising  his  eyes  to  her  face,  he  said  in  a low,  rapid  voice  : 
“ Even  so.  My  place  for  the  present  is  by  thy  side, 
and  it  is  folly  for  us  to  talk  of  my  leading  the  rescue 
to-night  or  of  your  going  with  the  other  women.  You 
are  not  yet  able  to  leave  your  bed,  and  the  exposure  of  a 
night  sail  to  Arima  might  harm  you  beyond  recovery.” 
“Be  it  then  as  you  both  desire  !”  Ine  replied,  striving 
hard  to  conceal  the  regret  and  disappointment  that  she 
felt.  “Saints  and  angels  go  with  thee  and  shield  thee, 
good  father,  as  thou  leadest  our  brethren  to-night  against 
the  cruel  idolators.” 

“Amen,  to  that  prayer  of  thine,  daughter  !”  cried  the 
bishop,  crossing  himself,  and  Shiro  exclaimed  : “ The 
arm  of  the  Lord,  is  it  not  with  us  ? Is  it  not  the  promise 
of  Heaven  that  we  shall  succeed  ?” 

“ Fitly  spoken,  Nirado  Shiro,”  said  the  woman,  fixing 
her  clear,  earnest  eyes  upon  her  lover’s  face.  “O  my  lord 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  175 


and  dearest,  let  our  hearts  be  strong,  our  faith  steadfast ! 
In  this  supreme  crisis  of  our  cause,  it  behooves  us  who 
are  leaders  to  be  patterns  of  fortitude  to  the  people.” 
Bishop  Paoli  had  thus  far  during  the  conversation 
remained  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  He  now 
came  and  seated  himself  near  the  lovers,  but  in  such  a 
position  that  he  and  Shiro  faced  each  other.  Ine  fancied 
that  she  caught  the  glimpse  of  an  interchange  of  glances 
between  the  two  men,  and  she  noted  a look  of  sullen 
defiance  flashing  from  her  lover's  eyes.  This  rebellious 
outburst,  however,  went  no  further  than  the  passing 
glance  which  the  younger  man  shot  at  his  companion, 
and  then  an  expression  of  beseeching  appeal  settled 
over  his  handsome  face.  But  no  trace  of  emotion  dis- 
turbed the  placid  and  sphinx-like  calm  of  the  Jesuit’s 
countenance,  as,  ignoring  both  Ine’s  look  of  mystified 
surprise  at  the  strange  actions  she  had  just  witnessed 
and  the  mute  entreaty  that  was  written  upon  Shiro’s 
features,  he  spoke  in  his  calmest  and  most  gentle  tone  : 
“Yesterday,  thou,  my  daughter,  wert  most  wonder- 
fully saved  from  death,  and  likewise,  thou,  Shiro,  provi- 
dentially escaped  destruction  at  the  hands  of  the  gov- 
ernor’s officials,”  and  Paoli  proceeded  to  relate  the  story 
of  Kanshin’s  visit  to  the  Spuyten  Duyvil , as  he  had  that 
afternoon  heard  it  from  the  lips  of  Marmion  Beaumont. 
“ And,  now,  my  children,”  he  said,  in  conclusion,  “what 
does  it  mean,  your  miraculous  preservation  and  your 
equally  marvellous  meeting  upon  Takaboka  last  night? 
Let  me  tell  you.  It  was,  my  son,  that  thou,  who  art 
destined  to  be,  with  the  help  of  Heaven,  the  deliverer  of 
the  church,  and  thou,  daughter,  since  thy  childhood  the 
betrothed  wife  of  Nirado  Shiro  and  long  the  consolation 
of  our  suffering  people,  should,  by  your  union,  now  at 
the  beginning  of  our  struggle  for  freedom,  realize  the 


i 76  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 

hopes  the  Christians  have  ever  cherished  concerning 
you,  and  give  our  sacred  cause  the  inspiration  of 
your  united  leadership.  To-night,  dear  children,  I am 
to  exchange,  perhaps  forever,  my  priestly  office  for  the 
sterner  duties  of  the  soldier  ; but  before  this  is  done 
permit  me  to  announce  to  our  people  here,  ere  they  go 
forth  to  their  brethren  at  Arima,  or  to  do  battle  for  the 
rescue  of  their  friends,  that  at  last  their  prayers  have 
been  answered,  their  long  desire  fulfilled  ; that  Shiro> 
their  leader,  and  Ine  Tanaka,  their  wrell-beloved  Ine,  are 
man  and  wife.” 

The  woman  had  heard  with  bowed  head  Paoli’s  con- 
cluding words.  She  felt  her  cheeks  burn  and  her  heart 
throbbed  as  if  it  would  break  through  her  side.  Not  dar- 
ing to  look  up,  she  waited  to  hear  her  lover’s  answer.  A 
minute  passed  and  the  silence  remained  unbroken.  The 
wild  intoxicating  joy  that  had  thrilled  her  soul  at  the 
bishop’s  mention  of  her  union  with  Shiro  died  away, 
leaving  an  indefinable  foreboding  of  evil.  Intuitively, 
Ine  felt  that  these  two  men  before  her  were  again  gazing 
into  each  other’s  eyes,  and  that  once  more  a conflict  of 
mind  with  mind,  of  will  with  will,  was  being  waged  be- 
tween them.  At  last  Shiro  spoke  : 

“Dearest  Ine,  let  it  be  even  as  the  good  bishop  says  !” 

The  words  were  spoken  with  the  voice  of  Nirado 
Shiro,  but  the  wish  they  expressed  was  the  wish  of  an- 
other. 

And  Ine  Tanaka  was  conscious  of  this. 

She  raised  her  head,  and  her  face  seemed  to  the  two 
men  before  her  as  the  face  of  some  fair  and  saintly 
queen,  whose  love  had  been  proffered  and  declined.  Her 
womanly  dignity  felt  keenly  the  humiliation  put  upon  it, 
but  there  was  no  resentful  clamor  for  redress.  The  vague 
dread  of  something  still  worse  to  come,  which  had  al- 


HIGASHI-YAMA.-AS  TT  WAS  TO  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  ; RESTORED  FROM  A MODERN  PHOTOGRAPH.-®!*  PaqC,  180. 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  I 79 


ready  oppressed  her,  settled  closer  and  more  heavily 
upon  her  aching  heart.  The  love  she  cherished  for  this 
man  could  endure  much,  patiently  awaiting  in  hope. 
But  until  she  was  satisfied  that  he  spoke  the  feeling  that 
inspired  his  own  heart  and  not  the  will  of  another,  she 
would  stand  between  him  and  a union,  from  which,  when 
master  of  himself,  he  might  shrink. 

“Good  Father  Paoli,”  and  she  bowed  herself  before 
the  bishop,  “I  have  something  to  say,  may  I speak  ?” 

The  Jesuit's  face  grew  strangely  tender  as  he  looked 
down  upon  the  kneeling  woman,  and  his  voice  was  as 
gentle  as  her  own  as  he  addressed  her. 

“ Rise,  Ine,  and  speak  what  thy  heart  prompts  thee  to 
say  !” 

Was  it  for  the  better  or  the  worse  that  the  woman  was 
not  granted  an  opportunity  to  unburden  her  heart  to  the 
men  now  sitting  before  her  in  expectant  waiting  ? Oba- 
ta,  the  master  of  the  house,  appeared  in  the  qpen  door. 

“Good  Bishop  and  Shiro,”  he  cried,  “you  are  needed 
at  once  in  the  cavern-chapel  ! The  brethren  are  assem- 
bled there  ; and  it  is  time  both  for  the  women  and  children 
to  embark  and  the  rescuing  party  to  set  out  for  the  city.” 

Paoli  was  on  his  feet  and  leaving  the  room  before  Oba- 
ta  had  ceased  speaking. 

“ We  have  forgotten  ourselves,  Shiro!  Do  thou,  my 
son,  assist  the  women  to  their  boats.  I must  haste  to 
arm  myself,”  and,  turning  to  Ine,  he  added,  “ Ponder 
well,  my  daughter,  what  thou  wouldst  say  to  us  ; we 
shall  hear  thee  in  Arima.” 

And  Ine  Tanaka,  left  alone,  bowed  her  queenly  head 
and  wept. 


i8o  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


II. 

LORD  ODA'S  PLACE  OF  ENTERTAINMENT. 

The  section  of  the  modern  city  of  Nagasaki,  assigned 
by  the  Japanese  government  as  the  foreigners’  quarter, 
extends  southward  from  the  native  town  about  a mile 
along  the  eastern  shore  of  the  bay.  Its  breadth  varies, 
but  at  no  place  are  foreign  residences  to  be  found  further 
than  two  thirds  of  a mile  from  the  water’s  edge.  This 
foreign  concession,  known  generally  by  its  Japanese 
name  of  Oura,  consists  of  two  hills  with  the  intervening 
valley,  through  which  runs  a little  stream  of  water,  that 
flows  down  from  the  mountains  further  inland.  The 
southern  hill  is  now  called  Sagaru-matsu,  and  the  most 
conspicuous  object  on  it  is  the  large,  white  Roman  Cath- 
olic Cathedral,  erected  on  the  site  of  the  Jesuit  college  of 
three  hundred  years  ago.  The  opposite  height,  Higashi- 
yama,  or  the  Eastern  Hill,  is,  in  our  times,  covered  with 
foreign  buildings,  principally  the  residences  of  American 
missionaries  and  the  schools  that  they  have  established. 
The  very  spot  where  the  Christian  prisoners  underwent 
the  cross  ordeal  is  now  a missionary’s  home  ; and  the 
place  where  Beaumont  and  the  Prince  of  Kai  stood  is,  at 
present,  included  in  the  grounds  of  a large  and  flourish- 
ing Christian  female  seminary,  its  imposing  building  and 
terraced  grounds  being  the  most  conspicuous  object  that 
greets  the  traveller’s  eye  as  his  ship  steams  into  the  little 
land-locked  harbor. 

At  the  right  of  the  seminary,  the  sloping  hill-side,  which 
thus  far  has  an  easterly  trend,  turns  sharply  toward  the 
jouth,  and  for  some  distance  follows  that  direction, 
i he  hill  thus  forms  an  admirable  natural  amphitheater, 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  1S1 


its  sloping  sides  commanding  an  excellent  view  of 
the  level  tract  of  ground,  thirty  or  forty  acres  in  extent, 
that  stretches  from  the  base  of  the  hill  to  the  little 
stream  on  the  south,  and  westward  to  the  waters  of  the 
bay.  It  was  on  that  part  of  this  low-lying  plain,  that 
stretches  along  the  foot  of  Higashi-yama,  that  many  of 
the  Christian  martyrs  in  the  early  years  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  met  their  death  ; and  it  was  here  that 
the  larger  number  of  men  and  women,  that  lay  in  the 
city  prisons,  were  doomed,  upon  the  night  of  which  we 
are  speaking,  to  afford  their  savage  foes  “a  spectacle,” 
to  use  the  words  of  Governor  Oda  to  General  Itakura, 
“the  equal  of  which  had  not  yet  been  seen  in  Japan.” 

After  the  ordeal  of  the  cross  had  come  to  an  end,  the 
spectators  did  not  disperse,  but  seemed  to  prefer  waiting 
where  they  were  until  the  time  set  for  the  execution  should 
arrive.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  the  officers  with  their 
prisoners  had  passed  down  the  hill  to  the  execution 
grounds,  the  mob  hastened  to  secure  positions  that  would 
command  an  unobstructed  view  of  all  that  wras  to  take 
place  below. 

The  execution  grounds  were  brilliantly  lighted  from 
hundreds  of  gayly  colored  lanterns,  suspended  from  ropes 
that  were  stretched  across  the  open  space  between  high 
posts.  In  addition  to  the  lanterns,  other  pillars  had  been 
erected  at  regular  intervals,  and  these  bore  large  oil  lamps, 
that  flared  and  sputtered,  emitting  a close,  fetid  odor. 
Beyond  the  grounds  toward  the  bay,  a large  pavilion, 
open  upon  the  side  facing  the  hill,  had  been  put  up,  and 
within  this,  rising  tier  above  tier,  successive  stages  had 
been  erected  and  covered  with  soft  mats.  Here  would 
Lord  Oda,  with  his  staff  of  government  officials,  military 
officers  and  especially  invited  guests,  sit  and  behold  the 
torture  and  death  of  his  victims.  On  either  side  of  the 


1 82  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


governor’s  pavilion,  ruder,  uncovered  platforms  had  been 
constructed  for  the  accommodation  of  the  large  body  of 
inferior  officials,  both  civil  and  military.  The  open  space, 
between  the  pavilion  and  the  stout  wooden  railing  that 
had  been  erected  along  the  base  of  the  hill  to  hold  back 
the  common  throng,  was  reserved  as  the  place  of  ex- 
ecution. Here  the  ghastly  preparations  for  the  approach- 
ing horrors  met  the  eye.  A double  line  of  rude  wooden 
crosses  extended  along  the  entire  length  of  the  grounds 
on  the  side  nearest  the  hill,  and  at  the  foot  of  each  cross 
lay  a heavy  hammer  and  the  requisite  number  of  nails. 
Directly  in  front  of  the  crosses  were  the  stakes.  These, 
also,  were  arranged  in  a double  row,  each  with  its  pile  of 
faggots  and  coil  of  cord.  Before  these,  in  turn,  yawned 
a wide  and  deep  open  pit,  prepared  to  receive  those  whose 
doom  it  might  be  to  be  buried  alive.  In  the  yet  large 
space  remaining,  between  this  pit  and  the  pavilion,  were 
gathered  all  the  engines  of  torture  that  cruelty  could  de- 
vise to  make  life  intolerable,  and  to  render  even  the  stake 
and  the  cross  a relief  to  the  sufferer.  Lord  Oda  had  indeed 
reason  to  commend  the  entertainment  that  he  had  pre- 
pared for  this  night  as  one  never  before  equaled. 

The  officers,  leading  their  prisoners  down  the  hill-side 
from  the  ordeal,  crossed  the  execution  grounds,  and, 
placing  them  in  a large  walled  enclosure  that  had  been 
prepared  for  the  condemned,  took  up  their  position  as 
guards  at  the  entrance,  there  to  await  the  coming  of  the 
main  body  of  the  Christian  captives  from  the  city  prison. 

Eleven  o’clock  came,  and  the  great  bell  in  the  Suwa 
temple  boomed  out  in  a heavy  volume  of  sound,  that 
rolled  over  the  town  and  harbor  and  far  away  into  the 
dark  recesses  of  the  neighboring  hills.  It  was  the  signal 
for  the  government  troops  to  bring  forth  the  prisoners 
from  the  dungeon  in  the  city  and  to  begin  the  mournful 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  183 


march  to  Oura.  Scarcely  had  the  fainting  notes  died 
away  on  the  still  night  air,  when  a simultaneous  crash  of 
sound  burst  forth  from  all  the  Buddhist  temples  clustered 
along  the  eastern  hill-side,  and  soon,  across  the  bay,  and 
far  up  the  Urakami  valley  and  down  the  coast,  among 
the  villages  of  the  fishermen,  and  far  back  among  the 
mountain  hamlets,  wherever  there  was  a temple  and  a 
bell,  were  the  tidings  borne  to  the  ears  of  the  expectant 
people  that  the  hour  of  the  Christians’  woe,  the  hour  of 
the  pagans’  triumph  had  come. 

Forth  from  walled  mansion  and  squalid  hovel,  from 
shop  and  market-place,  from  government  office  and 
temple  cloister,  from  the  boats  in  the  harbor  and  the 
farmers’  huts  in  the  neighboring  fields,  from  the  islands 
in  the  outer  bay,  and  from  the  winding  mountain  passes 
poured  the  people,  filling  every  street  and  alley  leading 
to  the  place  of  execution.  It  was  a motley  multitude. 
Here  a party  of  merry,  laughing  girls,  brilliant  in  their 
many-colored  attire  and  the  bright  flowers  that  adorned 
their  hair,  hurried  forward  by  the  side  of  a group 
of  religious  pilgrims  whose  once  white  robes  were 
grimy  with  the  dust  of  many  a weary  mile  of 
mountain-road.  Yonder  a - spruce  tradesman,  having 
carefully  locked  the  door  of  his  shop,  strode  on  by 
the  side  of  a number  of  tonsured  Buddhist  priests 
clad  in  their  sacerdotal  vestments,  a smile  of  pleased 
triumph  on  their  cleanly-shaven  faces.  There  a gang  of 
desperadoes  from  the  hill  country  skulked  along  through 
the  dimly  lighted  alleys,  conversing  in  low  tones  as  they 
cautiously  pursued  their  way.  Up  that  broad  street 
came  some  haughty  prince  and  his  mounted  body-guard, 
preceded  by  a troop  of  bettos  that  made  clear  the  way 
before  them.  Close  after  these  followed  a detachment 
of  troops,  brilliant  with  their  gay  banners  and  gaudy 


184  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 

trappings  of  war.  The  soldiers  marched  to  the  shrill, 
piercing  music  of  shell  and  horn,  and  behind  them 
rushed  along  a tumultuous  throng  of  boys  and  half- 
grown  youths,  their  voices,  at  times,  rising  in  concert 
with  the  fierce  cry:  “Down  with  the  Christians.” 


III. 

ANDO  THE  HUNCHBACK. 

In  the  seventeenth  century,  one  of  the  principal  high- 
ways leading  into  Nagasaki  was  the  thoroughfare  known 
as  the  Mogi  road.  This  highway,  at  present  little  more 
than  a bridle-path,  upon  leaving  the  city,  skirts  the  base 
of  Higashi-yama  on  its  northern  side,  and  then  leads  off 
in  an  easterly  direction  some  three  miles,  to  the  now 
wretched  little  fishing  village  of  Mogi  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  cape.  At  the  time  of  which  we  are  writing, 
however,  Mogi  was  a prosperous  port,  whither  came  the 
junks  from  Higo  and  Chikugo,  laden  with  merchandize 
for  the  Nagasaki  market.  Here  the  goods  were  unship- 
ped and  borne  to  the  city  on  the  backs  of  horses  and  oxen, 
or  on  large  carts  drawn  by  men. 

Just  as  the  Suwa  bell  pealed  forth  its  summons  to  vic- 
tims and  spectators  alike  to  repair  to  the  execution 
grounds,  a traveller  on  the  Mogi  highway  came  descend- 
ing the  western  slope  of  the  range  of  hills  that  form  a 
water-shed  between  the  gulf  of  Shimabara  that  lay  be- 
hind him  and  Nagasaki  bay  about  a mile  distant  ahead. 
As  the  stranger  passes  under  one  of  the  lanterns  that  are 
hung  at  regular  intervals  alongthe  road,  we  perceive  that 
he  is  deformed.  He  is  not  over  four  feet  in  height.  As 
for  neck,  he  has  none  ; and  his  head  is  so  sunken,  that 


Puoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  185 


the  points  of  his  misshapen  shoulders  reach  his  ears. 
His  back  is  crooked,  and  a large  protuberance  stands  out 
from  between  his  shoulders;  his  legs  are  short  and  slen- 
der, his  feet  large  ; his  arms,  as  long  as  an  ordinary 
person’s,  with  his  low  stature,  bring  his  hands  almost  to 
the  ground.  In  the  passing  glance  we  have  had  of  him, 
our  eyes  very  likely  have  rested  too  long  upon  his  poor, 
deformed  body,  to  have  noticed  his  face.  Had  we  done 
so,  we  would  have  been  struck  with  a remarkable  con- 
trast. His  features  are  as  delicate  and  beautiful  as  those 
of  a lovely  woman  ; his  mouth  as  sweetly  smiling  as  an 
infant’s  ; his  eyes  as  keenly  piercing  as  an  eagle’s  ; and 
his  forehead  as  broad  and  full  as  that  of  a sage.  Alto- 
gether a very  strangely  made-up  individual  is  this  dwarf- 
ish hunchback. 

But  while  we  have  thus  been  dwelling  upon  his  per- 
sonal appearance,  our  little  traveller  has  been  hastening 
on  his  way,  as  fast  as  those  short  legs  could  carry  his 
ninety  odd  pounds  of  misshapen  flesh  and  bone.  The 
bells  of  all  the  temples  in  the  city  filled  the  air  with 
a heavy  burden  of  sound,  broken  every  now  and  then  by 
the  frenzied  shouts  of  a great  concourse  of  people.  The 
hunchback’s  eyes  were  steadfastly  fixed  upon  the  tremu- 
lous column  of  light  thrown  upward  from  the  countless 
lanterns,  torches  and  lamps  on  the  execution  grounds, 
and  he  was  not  aware  of  a noiseless  step  by  his  side. 

“ I observe,  friend,  that  thou  art  in  as  much  haste  as 
myself.” 

The  hunchback  started,  and,  glancing  at  the  figure  at 
his  side,  saw  a tall,  strongly-built  man  dressed  in  the  garb 
of  a mushashugoja,  or  warrior  pilgrim.  A fuka-amigasa* 

* A hat  made  of  plaited  work,  and  so  shaped  as  to  droop  over 
and  conceal  the  face  of  the  wearer. 


1 86  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


concealed  the  stranger’s  face,  and  a dark-colored  robe 
flowed  loosely  to  his  feet. 

“I  am  in  somewhat  of  a hurry,”  answered  the  hunch- 
back in  a low,  pleasant  voice.  “ It  seems  also  that  we  are 
going  the  same  way.” 

“ All  roads,  to-night,  my  friend,  lead  to  Oura,  and  all 
faces  are  turned  thither.” 

“Indeed!”  responded  the  other.  “What  is  it  that 
draws  everybody  to  Oura  ? I see  the  lights  ahead  and 
hear  the  shouting  of  men  and  the  sound  of  the  bells  ; 
something  very  unusual  is  surely  happening.  What  is 
it?” 

The  speaker  looked  up  questioningly  at  his  tall  com- 
panion, who,  he  perceived,  was  narrowly  watching  him. 
At  length  he  heard  him  laugh. 

“ Do  you  mean  to  say,”  cried  the  warrior  pilgrim, 
in  an  incredulous  tone,  “ that  you  do  not  know  what 
is  taking  place  to-night  over  there  ?”  pointing  with  his 
hand  toward  the  broad,  upright  band  of  light  before 
them. 

“Even  so.  I have  not  the  remotest  idea  of  what  is  go- 
ing on.” 

“ So,  so  ! Then  must  I inform  thee,  O thou  ignorant 
one  !” 

And  straightway  the  tall  man  proceeded  to  acquaint 
the  hunchback  of  Lord  Oda’s  entertainment. 

“ And  now,”  he  added,  in  conclusion,  “ thou  art  going, 
of  course,  to  behold  the  misbelieving  dogs  die?” 

“ Oh,  certainly  !” 

“I  also  am  going  thither  ; let  us  keep  together  ! But, 
perchance,  it  may  not  be  safe  for  me  to  be  with  thee.” 

“ Then  friend,”  returned  the  hunchback,  with  a musical 
laugh,  “since  thou  art  afraid  that  I may  hurt  thee,  thou 
wouldst  do  well  to  permit  me  to  go  alone.” 


Paoli  ; the  Last  oj  the  Missionaries.  187 


The  other  roared  with  merriment. 

“ So,  so,  kekko ! Well  said.  But  thou  didst  not  un- 
derstand me.  I do  not  fear  the  matchless  prowess 
that  one  can  very  well  perceive  thou  possessest.”  And 
the  pilgrim  roared  again  ; then,  dropping  his  voice  to  a 
whisper:  “ But,  friend,  how  about  thy  religion?  It  is 
that  which  nowadays  gets  men  into  trouble;  methinks, 
thou  art  dangerous  there.  Eh,  friend,  how  is  it  ?” 

The  hunchback  started  violently,  but  instantly  regain- 
ing his  self-possession,  said,  with  a laugh,  that  betrayed 
just  a little  nervousness  withal : 

“ Perhaps  thou  art  thinking  me  a disciple  of  the  bar- 
barian priests,  but  I assure  thee  I am  not.  Take  me  to 
the  ordeal  and  thou  shalt  see  me  trample  the  cross. 
But,”  and  his  voice  assumed  a bantering  tone,  “it  may  be 
that  thou  art  a Christian,  and  fearest  I may  discover  it 
and  betray  thee  to  the  officials,  I warn  thee,  to  beware  ! 
if  such  be  the  case.” 

The  pilgrim  cast  a careful  glance  about  them.  There 
were  other  pedestrians,  both  before  and  behind,  but  at 
too  great  a distance  to  overhear  anything  they  might  say. 
Nevertheless,  when  he  spoke  he  did  so  in  a low  whisper. 

“I  believe  that  thou  speakest  truly,  friend,  when  thou 
sayest  that  thou  are  not  a follower  of  the  doctrines  of  the 
priests.  And  yet  I charge  thee  with  being  a Christian  ; 
canst  thou  deny  the  accusation  ?” 

Getting  no  reply,  the  pilgrim  spoke  again  : 

“ Dare  you,  I say,  deny  that  you  are  a Christian  ?” 

“ I deny  your  right  to  question  me.  If  you  suspect  me, 
you  have  it  in  your  power  to  make  known  those  suspicions 
to  the  authorities.  When  I am  brought  before  them,  I 
shall  confess,  and  deny  not,  if  so  it  be  that  I am  a Chris- 
tian.” 

“Nay,  nay,  now  !”  cried  the  other,  soothingly.  “ You 


1 88  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


are  evading  my  question.  But,  I pray  thee,  if  it  be  pos- 
sible for  thee,  let  us  step  up  a little  more  briskly.  It 
cannot  be  lacking  much  of  midnight,  and  I must  be  at 
the  execution  grounds  before  that.” 

“Do  not  allow  me  to  detain  you,”  returned  the  hunch- 
back, coldly,  and  slackening  his  pace  as  he  spoke.  “ I 
am  walking  too  fast  now,  and  must  take  the  remainder 
of  the  road  more  easily.  You  say  you  are  needed  at  the 
execution  ?” 

The  other  laughed. 

“Nay,  I said  not  that;  yet  it  is  so,  and  moreover  I 
shall  endeavor  to  keep  you  company.  Am  I to  take  it, 
then,  that  you  will  not  answer  my  questions  ?” 

The  hunchback  grew  hot  with  indignation. 

“ I shall  reply  to  nothing  you  ask  me,”  he  cried,  fierce- 
ly. “ You  are,  doubtless,  some  government  spy,  striving 
to  entangle  me.  I shall  answer  to  the  officials,  but  not 
to  you.” 

“Thou  art  right  again,  friend,”  said  the  pilgrim,  in  a 
low  voice.  “ I am  a spy,  and  since  thou  dost  so  foolishly 
object  to  my  questions,  I shall  tell  thee  what  I know  con- 
cerning thee,  to  make  it  plain  that  I need  neither  thy 
silence,  nor  yet  any  admission  of  thine  to  hold  thee  in 
my  power.  I have  been  following  thee  ever  since  thou 
left  Mogi,  an  hour  or  more  ago.  Thy  name  is  Ando,  and 
thou  art  of  the  household  of  the  old  Lord  Mori,  of 
Unzen.” 

“Well  !”  retorted  the  hunchback,  impatiently.  “ Your 
knowledge  is  the  common  property  of  the  country- 
side— ” 

“Hold,  friend  ; not  so  fast  !”  The  pilgrim’s  tone  was 
now  severe.  “That  is  not  all.  I know  that  for  these 
many  years  thy  master  has  been  a Christian  ; not,  it  is 
true,  of  the  sect  of  the  missionaries  but  what  the  Western 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  189 


barbarians  call  Protestant.  I know  Lord  Mori’s  history. 
Twenty-five  years  ago  he  visited  Holland  and  England, 
and  became  a zealous  adherent  of  the  form  of  Christian- 
ity that  is  believed  in  those  lands.  When  he  returned  to 
Japan,  he  brought  with  him  an  English  wife.  She  died 
shortly,  and  Lord  Mori,  surrendering  his  title  and  estates 
to  his  cousin  Nabeshima,  retired  to  private  life,  and  with 
his  infant  daughter  sought  a retreat  from  the  world 
among  the  solitudes  of  Mount  Unzen.  That  daughter, 
now  a woman  grown,  is  your  mistress.” 

The  pilgrim  bent  another  keen  look  on  the  hunchback, 
but  the  latter  remained  silent.  The  stranger  continued  : 
“You  have  been  sent  to  Nagasaki  by  your  mistress  to 
get  news  of  some  foreign  ship.  She  fears  the  persecution 
may  reach  them,  and  she  wishes  to  flee  from  the  country 
with  her  aged  father,  and  to  seek  safety  in  the  land  of  her 
mother’s  birth.  Now,  friend,  what  say  you  ? Do  I not 
know — But  what  is  the  matter?” 

The  hunchback  was  lying  unconscious  at  the  stran- 
ger’s feet. 


IV. 

THE  WARRIOR-PILGRIM  RECOUNTS  A FAMILY  HISTORY. 

The  warrior-pilgrim  stooped  down  and  raised  the 
prostrate  hunchback  in  his  arms. 

“Fool  that  I was!”  he  muttered.  “I  went  too  far: 
and  now,  to  reward  my  rashness,  I have  this  fellow  on 
my  hands.” 

Darting  quickly  into  a thick  grove  of  pine  adjoining 
the  highway,  that  he  might  not  be  seen  by  the  passers-by, 
he  laid  his  burden  down  at  the  foot  of  a tree,  and  began 
chafing  Ando’s  forehead  and  hands.  In  a few  minutes 


190  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  hunchback  gave  signs  of  returning  consciousness, 
and,  as  a long-drawn,  gasping  sigh  broke  from  his  lips, 
he  raised  himself  to  a sitting  posture,  and,  seizing  the 
pilgrim’s  hand,  sobbed  forth  in  a voice  tremulous  with 
emotion  : 

“ You  indeed  know  all ! I am  in  your  hands.  My  be- 
loved mistress  and  her  aged  parent  are  at  your  mercy. 
But  I implore  you  to  spare  them.  Take  me  to  the  offi- 
cials, if  you  will ; torture  me,  burn,  crucify,  or  bury  me 
alive.  Let  this  poor,  worthless  body  of  mine  feel  the 
punishment  that  you  would  inflict  upon  them  ; but  spare 
my  mistress.  If  money  will  move  you  to  be  merciful, 
you  shall  be  rich  with  the  gold  I shall  gladly  give  thee.” 
“Hush!  Not  so  loud,”  whispered  the  other.  “The 
people  passing  by  will  hear  you.  Do  not  fear.  I was 
but  trying  you.  I,  too,  am  a Christian.” 

“Nay,  nay,  that  cannot  be,”  said  the  other,  his  heart 
filled  with  the  contending  emotions  of  hope  and  fear, 
doubt  and  belief.  “ You  told  me  but  a moment  ago  that 
you  were  one  of  the  executioners.” 

The  pilgrim  laughed. 

“Thou  hast,  in  very  sooth,  a nimble  wit  in  making  as- 
sumptions. Behold  thy  process  of  reasoning,  my  friend. 
I told  you  that  I must  be  at  the  execution  grounds  before 
midnight.  You  thereupon  concluded  that  lam  needed  at 
the  execution.  Your  conclusion,  I informed  you,  was  cor- 
rect ; and  consequently  you  now  infer  that  I am  an  exe- 
cutioner. Again  thy  reasoning  has  served  thee  well.  I 
am  an  executioner,  friend,  but  not  of  Christians.” 

“ I do  not  comprehend  you.” 

“I  am  not  surprised.  But,  friend,  we  must  be  on  our 
way.  You  are  strong  enough  now,  I perceive,  to  get  on 
your  legs,”  he  continued,  as  Ando  rose  to  his  feet,  “ and 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Alissionaries. 


191 


so  I infer  that  you  are  able  to  walk.  We  can  converse  as 
we  go.” 

The  two  travellers,  issuing  from  the  grove,  resumed 
their  journey  toward  the  city.  The  highway  now  began 
to  bear  off  to  the  northward,  and  the  light,  stream- 
:.ng  upward  from  the  execution  grounds,  instead  of  being 
in  front  of  them,  as  before,  was  falling  away  to  their  left. 

“Here,”  said  the  pilgrim,  pausing  in  his  walk,  “me- 
thinks  we  had  better  leave  the  road,  and  make  our  way 
across  the  fields  in  a direct  line  to  Oura.  Hast  thou  ever 
heard,  friend,  of  the  family  of  Oyano,  retainers  of  the 
Lords  of  Kai  ?” 

“ I have,  indeed,”  exclaimed  the  other.  “My  master 
still  frequently  speaks  of  the  Oyanos,  and  never  unless 
it  is  to  commend  their  faithfulness,  or  to  praise  their 
bravery.” 

“ It  is  sweet  to  think  that  Lord  Mori,  though  long 
ago  he  hid  his  face  from  the  eyes  of  his  vassals,  has  not 
forgotten  them.  Friend,  I am  an  Oyano.” 

The  hunchback  could  not  restrain  a cry  of  mingled 
surprise  and  gladness.  “Thank  God!”  he  cried,  fer- 
vently. “Ah  ! friend,  my  fears  were  indeed  groundless, 
but  how  was  I to  know  that,  when  you  spoke  so  roughly  ? 
But  how  is  it  that  thou  art  here,  in  the  dress  of  a musha- 
shugoja  ?” 

“Because  I prefer  the  perils  of  the  faith  to  the  luxury 
of  the  court  of  an  infidel  prince.  Time  was  when  the 
house  of  Kai  was  the  glory  of  the  church  of  Japan.  The 
first  of  the  nobility  to  embrace  the  doctrines  of  the  mis- 
sionary priests,  its  princes  became  the  zealous  defenders 
of  the  religion  they  professed.  With  your  master,  Ando, 
the  change  for  the  worse  began.  He  went  to  England, 
and  there  became  a zealous  convert  to  the  sect  called 
Protestant.  With  his  fair-faced  English  wife,  he  re- 


i y2  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


turned  to  Japan,  with  the  resolve  to  introduce  the  new 
teachings  into  the  church  of  his  native  land.  A furious 
controversy  arose  between  him  and  the  missionaries  led  by 
the  Jesuit,  Paoli.  Finding  all  his  plans  frustrated,  Lord 
Mori  renounced  his  title  and  estates,  and  sought  quiet- 
ness and  safety  in  the  solitudes  of  Mount  Unzen.  Since 
that  retirement,  you  know  his  history  better  than  I.  The 
present  prince.  Lord  Nabeshima,  is  noble,  brave  and 
chivalrous.  He  is  beloved  by  all  his  retainers,  and  his 
name  is  honored  throughout  the  land.  In  his  boyhood, 
his  constant  companion  was  Will  Adams,  the  Englishman 
whom  the  great  Iyeyasu  loved.  Three  years  of  his  early 
manhood  were  also  spent  in  England  ; but  when  he  re- 
turned, alas  ! it  was  neither  as  Romanist  nor  Protestant. 
Our  blessed  Lord  he  makes  but  a great,  good  man,  and 
says  that  God  reveals  himself  in  the  consciences  of 
men  alone,  and  that,  therefore,  conscience  is  the  only  cer- 
tain and  sufficient  guide.  His  views  have  been  embraced 
by  all  his  followers  to  the  ruin  of  the  faith  in  Kai.  What 
was  once  a Christian  chapel  is  now  a lecture  hall,  where 
the  Lord  Nabeshima  gives  Sabbath-day  discourses  on 
Confucius,  Buddha,  Mahomet,  Jesus,  and  the  wise  men 
of  the  West.  My  family  remained  true  to  the  teachings 
of  the  missionaries,  and  finding  our  lives  intolerable  be 
cause  of  the  scoffs  and  sneers  of  our  comrades,  my  two 
brothers  and  myself  donned  the  garb  of  musha-shugoja , 
and  went  forth  from  the  home  of  our  ancestors  as  wan- 
derers upon  the  earth.  One  of  these  brothers  has  al- 
ready fallen  a martyr  to  the  faith  we  love,  and  the  other 
is  among  the  number  of  those  condemned  to  die  to-night 
on  yonder  execution  ground.” 

The  hunchback  had  been  listening  with  rapt  attention 
to  Oyano’s  words.  He  already  knew  much  of  his  mas 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  193 


ter’s  history,  but  some  of  it  he  heard  now  for  the  first 
time. 

“I  have  been  deeply  interested  in  what  you  have  told 
me,  good  friend  ; but  I would  fain  hear  more.  You  spoke 
of  being  an  executioner,  though  not  of  Christians  ; I do 
not  understand  you.” 

Then  Oyano  proceeded  to  tell  Ando  of  Paoli’s  scheme 
to  rescue  the  Christians,  and  added  : 

‘'We  are  nearing  the  crowd  ahead,  and  must  very  soon 
drop  our  conversation.  If  I mistake  not,  you  shall  see 
some  bloody  work  to-night.  About  one  hundred  of  us 
are  to  mingle  with  the  spectators  ; of  these  I am  the 
leader.  The  good  bishop,  with  two  hundred  and  fifty 
well-armed  men,  is  to  be  at  hand  awaiting  my  signal.  A 
detachment  of  five  hundred  soldiers  from  our  army  at 
Arima  is  now  lying  concealed  in  the  cemetery  on  that 
hill  to  our  left.  After  I give  the  first  signal,  which  is 
to  be  a blue  rocket  exploding  in  the  form  of  a red 
dragon,  both  of  the  waiting  re-inforcements  are  to  rush 
up,  and  when  the  bishop’s  division  is  sufficiently  close, 
he  is  to  send  up  a red  rocket  exploding  in  the  form  of  a 
white  cross.  This  is  the  signal  for  us  who  are  among  the 
spectators  to  raise  our  battle  cry,  and  to  rush  to  the  exe- 
cution grounds,  to  set  free  the  prisoners.  But,  hush,  here 
we  are  !” 

V. 

A CLIMAX  OF  PERILS. 

Oyano  and  the  hunchback  had  now  reached  the  crest 
of  Higashi-yama,  and  the  vast  multitude  of  people  cover- 
ing its  western  slope  and  the  execution  grounds  on  the 
little  plain  below  burst  into  view.  The  sports  were  in 


194  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


progress  on  the  open  space  before  the  governor’s  yet  un- 
occupied pavilion ; and  dancing  girls,  wrestlers,  and 
musicians  were  vying  with  one  another  for  the  applause 
of  the  spectators.  Oyano’s  tall  form,  towering  above  the 
crowd  about  him,  enabled  him  to  see  an  open  space  a 
short  distance  down  the  sloping  hill-side. 

“ Let  us  move  forward,”  he  said  to  Ando.  “I  see  a 
better  position  ahead.  Follow  close  at  my  heels,  and  I 
shall  elbow  our  way  through  the  crowd.” 

Their  progress  through  the  densely  packed  throng  was 
slow  enough,  but  finally  reaching  the  open  space,  they 
were  delighted  to  find  a large  rock,  that  would  serve  the 
hunchback  as  a seat,  where  he  could  have  the  view  his 
diminutive  stature  would  otherwise  render  impossible. 
On  one  side  the  earth  had  been  removed,  forming  a deep 
hollow  beneath  the  rock,  a depository  prepared  by  some 
farmer  for  the  reception  of  the  produce  of  the  field. 

“ See  here  !”  said  Oyano,  in  a whisper  to  Ando.  “ Here 
is  a place  of  refuge  for  you  during  the  battle.  As  soon 
as  you  see  me  give  the  signal,  slip  down  from  the  top  of 
the  rock  and  hide  yourself  here.  Arrows  and  bullets 
will  fly  thick  and  fast,  I assure  you,  and  should  you  es- 
cape them,  you  nevertheless,  would  certainly  be  trampled 
to  death  by  the  panic-stricken  multitude.” 

The  hunchback  whispered  back  an  assent  to  the  words 
of  his  companion,  and  was  in  the  act  of  climbing  up  to 
his  seat,  when  a rough  voice  accosted  him  ; 

“ Ho,  there,  crooked-back  ! Down  off  that  rock,  or,  by 
the  gods,  I’ll  beat  straight  that  misshappen  carcass  of 
thine  !” 

The  speaker  was  a powerful-looking  fellow,  and,  like 
Oyano,  was  dressed  in  the  costume  of  a warrior-pilgrim. 
Oyano,  hearing  the  fellow’s  threat,  hastened  to  the  other 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  195 


side  of  the  rock  where  he  was  standing,  and,  bending  a 
fierce  look  upon  him,  cried  out,  sternly  : 

“ Hands  off,  stranger  ! He  who  harms  this  man 
quarrels  with  me.” 

The  other  musha-shugoja  swept  a keen  look  over  Oyano. 
and  then  replied  : 

“ No  quarrel,  then,  shall  there  be  between  us.  I am 
but  guarding  this  rock  for  a friend,  who  shortly  will 
have  need  of  it.  This  hunchback  is  the  one-hundredth 
person,  at  least,  that  has  tried  within  the  past  hour  to 
mount  it.” 

“Then  let  me  tell  you  that  the  one-hundredth  person 
shall  not  only  mount  this  rock,  but  shall  also  remain 
upon  it.  There  is  room  enough  for  two.  Is  your  friend 
likewise  a dwarf  ?” 

The  stranger  broke  into  a loud,  harsh  laugh. 

“ O,  ye  gods,  hear  him  ! A dwarf  ! Well,  no,  scarcely, 
methinks.” 

“Then  why  should  he  need  the  rock  ?”  demanded  Oya- 
no, irritated  at  the  other’s  manner. 

“Wait,  and  thou  shalt  see,”  returned  the  stranger,  his 
eyes  closely  scrutinizing  Oyano’s  costume.  “ Methinks, 
friend,”  he  continued,  “ that  thy  pilgrim  garb  as  ill  be- 
comes thee  as  mine  does  me.” 

“ Perchance  it  does,”  replied  Oyano,  coolly.  “ Thy 
name,  friend  ?” 

The  stranger  shrugged  his  shoulders'  “ For  the  nonce 
I choose  to  be  nameless.” 

“ I likewise,”  the  other  said,  in  a confidential  tone.  He 
knew,  he  thought,  the  man’s  character,  and  he  began  to 
suspect  that  some  mischief  was  afoot  which  it  behooved 
him  to  know.  The  stranger  glanced  toward  the  hunch- 
back. 

“ Do  not  fear  him  !”  Oyano  said,  in  a low  voice  ; “he 


196  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


is  one  of  us.  I have  travelled  far  to-day,  and  have  just 
arrived  here.  Some  work  is  to  be  done  to-night,  is  there 
not  ? If  so,  I am  ready  ; see,  I have  come  prepared,”  and 
the  speaker  swept  aside  his  flowing  robe  for  an  instant, 
disclosing  his  swords  to  his  companion. 

“Yes,  there  is  work  for  us  to-night.  Our  chieftain, 
Gonroku,  has  been  set  free  by  the  governor.” 

“Indeed!”  exclaimed  Oyano,  with  an  astonishment 
that  was  wholly  unfeigned. 

“ Ha  !”  cried  the  other,  “ there  they  come  !” 

Oyano  looked  toward  the  pavilion,  and  beheld  about 
twenty  of  the  seamen  from  the  Spuyten  Duyvil , armed  with 
muskets,  pistols  and  cutlasses,  file  slowly  into  the  execu- 
tion grounds,  and  take  up  their  position  before  the 
pavilion. 

“What  does  that  mean,  those  foreigners;  why  are 
they  here,  and  armed  ?”  cried  Oyano  to  his  companion. 

Briefly  the  stranger  told  Mm  Lord  Oda’s  plot  for  the 
destruction  of  the  officers  and  crew,  and  the  capture  of 

the  Spuyten  Duyvil. 

“ But,  by  all  the  gods  !”  cried  he  ; “ those  fellows  will 
give  us  a tough  job  of  it  ! There  are,  however,  but 
twenty  of  them,  and  we  shall  outnumber  them  ten  to  one. 
Ho  !”  he  shouted,  in  stentorian  tones  ; “down  with  the 
foreigners  !” 

Some  other  voices  caught  the  cry,  and  then  hundreds, 
scattered  throughout  the  vast  throng,  took  it  up,  until  a 
mad  roar  burst  forth — • 

“ Down  with  the  foreigners  !” 

“ Ha  !”  cried  the  stranger,  with  a terrible  laugh.  “ Well 
begun  ! We  must  get  the  people  worked  up  to  a fury 
against  those  fellows,  then  we  shall  be  twenty  to  one.” 

“ Well  done  indeed,  Gohei  !”  exclaimed  a gruff  voice 
just  behind  them,  and  Oyano,  turning,  saw  a villainous- 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries  197 


looking  ruffian,  equipped  with  a heavy  suit  of  armor, 
but  lacking  a helmet.  As  he  perceived  the  two  men 
looking  at  him,  he  laughed,  disclosing  a double  row  of 
yellow  fangs  from  ear  to  ear.  “ Keep  the  mob  shouting, 
Gohei ; it  will  make  the  work  easier  for  us  later  on.  But 
who  is  this  ?”  pointing  to  Oyano  “ A new  recruit,  eh  ?” 
“Yes,”  replied  Gohei.  “He  is  to  be  one  of  us.  But 
how  fares  it,  Gonroku  ?” 

“ Ah  ! indeed,”  thought  Oyano  to  himself.  “ That  cut- 
throat is  Gonroku,  the  robber-chieftain.  Woe,  then  to 
that  handful  of  foreigners  ! I would  they  could  under- 
stand the  meaning  of  these  savage  yells  ! How  this  plot 
of  the  blood-thirsty  governor  is  to  affect  our  enterprise, 
I know  not,  but  we  dare  not  retreat  from  our  purpose.” 
“ Kekko,  kekko,"  responded  Gonroku  to  Gonhei’s  ques- 
tion. “ Tidings  have  just  come  that  both  Yamada,  the 
Ronin,  and  the  governor’s  deputy,  Kanshin,  are  in  the 
escort  that  conducts  the  barbarian  captain  and  the  En- 
glishman hither  from  the  Dutch  trading-house.  As  soon 
as  I mount  this  rock  and  give  the  signal  for  the  riot  to 
begin,  they  and  their  companions  will  take  care  of  them. 
There,  look  ! by  the  hand  of  Buddha  ! they  are  coming ! 
Here,  Gohei,  move  thou  to  that  side,  while  I go  this  way. 
Our  presence  will  stir  our  people  up,  and  bring  us  new 
recruits.  And  do  thou,  friend,”  said  the  robber-chief,  ad- 
dressing Oyano,  “ stay  by  this  rock  and  keep  it  clear.” 
The  two  outlaws  now  disappeared  among  the  spectators, 
whose  numbers,  increased  by  hundreds  of  new-comers, 
presented  the  appearance  of  an  unbroken  sea  of  faces 
over  the  entire  length  and  height  of  the  two  converging 
hill-sides.  The  little  hunchback,  pointing  toward  the 
pavilion,  cried  out  to  his  companion  : 

“ See,  good  friend,  knowest  thou  that  fair  and  noble- 
looking foreigner  ?” 


198  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ Ah,  that  is  the  Englishman,  of  whom  thou  hast  just 
heard  the  robber-chieftain  speak,”  said  Oyano,  his  eyes 
resting  upon  Beaumont,  Van  Neist,  and  the  two  Dutch 
traders,  Santvoort  and  Koeckebacker,  who,  escorted  by 
their  guards,  had  just  arrived  before  the  pavilion. 
“There,  there,  by  the  side  of  the  Englishman,”  contin- 
ued Oyano,  excitedly.  “Knowest  thou  him,  man  ? He 
is  thy  master’s  cousin,  Lord  Nabeshima,  Prince  of  Kai. 
And  look  yonder  at  the  other  side  of  the  pavilion.  Lord 
Oda  and  his  train,  the  government  officials,  and  the  mili- 
tary officers  ! By  my  life  Ando,  do  not  thine  eyes  daz- 
zle with  all  that  display  of  gold  and  color  ?” 

The  appearance  of  the  governor’s  party  had  hushed 
the  spectators  into  a respectful  silence,  for  Orientals  never 
greet  their  state  officials  with  the  uproarious  applause  or 
the  ringing  cheers  that  salute  the  public  appearance  of  a 
Western  ruler  ; but  as  soon  as  Oda,  the  officials,  and  the 
invited  guests,  including  the  captain  and  the  young  En- 
glishman, had  taken  their  seats,  the  frenzied  throng  raised 
again  the  mad  cry  : 

“ Down  with  the  foreigners  !” 

At  that  moment  the  head  of  a long  double  column  of 
government  troops  appeared  approaching  the  execution 
grounds.  Between  the  two  lines  of  soldiers  came  the 
Christian  prisoners.  At  the  first  sight  of  these,  the  howl- 
ing rabble  screamed  with  savage  delight,  and  as  the  long 
column  passed  over  the  open  space  before  the  pavilion, 
on  its  way  to  the  inclosure  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
grounds,  where  the  prisoners  were  to  await  each  his  turn 
to  be  led  forth  to  torture  and  execution,  the  vast  multitude, 
now  one  shrieking,  cursing,  frantic,  and  blood-thirsty 
mob,  became  threateningly  insubordinate  in  its  mad 
excitement.  Cries  of  “ No,  no,  don’t  put  them  in  there, 
bring  them  out  ! Away  with  the  sports  ! The  Christians, 


. Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  199 


the  Christians  ! Begin  their  torture  now  ! We  will  wait 
no  longer!”  rose  amid  the  deafening  uproar  and  confu- 
sion. 

“ Mother  of  mercy  !”  cried  the  alarmed  Oyano.  “The 
blood-thirsty  pagans  are  breaking  over  the  barriers  into 
the  execution  grounds  ! See,  see  ! they  are  driving  the 
guards  backward  and  our  poor  friends  are  left  to  the  fury 
of  the  mob  ! Merciful  God,  hear  the  shrieks  of  the 
women  !” 

While  Oyano  was  speaking,  he  was  hurriedly  preparing 
to  give  the  signal  ; and  scarcely  had  the  last  words  left 
his  lips,  when,  with  a sharp,  whirring  sound,  a rocket 
emitting  a blue  flame  as  it  mounted  aloft,  rose  high  into 
the  air,  where  it  burst  with  a loud  report  and  a red  dragon 
fell  circling  above  the  governor’s  pavilion.  In  a minute 
more  another  sharp  explosion  above  him  caused  the  little 
hunchback  to  glance  upward.  There,  enveloped  in  a 
halo  of  sparkling  red  flame,  hovered  the  figure  of  a white 
cross,  Paoli’s  signal  of  attack. 


BOOK  SIXTH. 


THE  HOUSEHOLD  OF  MORI. 

I. 

UNA  THE  EURASIAN, 


N an  easterly  direction  from 
Nagasaki,  some  twenty  miles 
as  the  crow  flies,  towers  the 
volcano  of  Unzen,  its  huge 
bulk  lying  athwart  the  narrow  peninsula  of  Shimabara, 
between  the  northern  and  southern  plains  of  which  it 
renders  communication  impossible,  except  by  boat  along 
the  rock-bound  coast  or  through  steep  and  winding 
mountain-passes.  In  our  day  Unzen  is  classed  among 
the  inactive  volcanoes  of  Japan  ; but  less  than  one 
hundred  years  ago,  a terrific  eruption  occurred,  occasion- 
ing the  destruction  of  numerous  villages  and  the  greater 


Paoli  ; the  Last  oj  the  Missionaries.  201 


part  of  the  city  of  Shimabara,  with  the  loss  of  many 
thousands  of  lives.  At  the  time  of  which  we  are  writing, 
it  was  active,  though  not  dangerously  so.  Over  its  crater 
there  hung  by  day  a snow-white  column  of  smoke  and 
steam  and  at  night  the  light  from  the  red-hot  rocks 
below  shone  upon  this,  transforming  it  into  a pillar  of 
fire  that  served  through  the  darkest  night  as  a beacon  to 
the  belated  traveller  in  the  plain  below  and  the  fishermen 
on  either  bay. 

On  the  day  succeeding  the  night  of  the  execution  at 
Nagasaki,  as  the  afternoon  sun  was  drawing  near  the 
western  hills,  and  the  deeper  valleys  and  gorges  that  fur- 
rowed the  starred  sides  of  Unzen  were  already  full  of 
twilight,  two  persons  might  have  been  seen  seated  upon 
a large,  flat  bowlder  that  crowned  one  of  the  lesser  peaks 
which  commands  an  extensive  view  of  the  southern  plain. 
Of  these,  one  was  a man  past  fifty  years  of  age  ; but  his 
long  beard  and  hair  of  snowy  whiteness,  his  hollow  cheeks 
and  temples,  and  shrunken  form  gave  him  the  appearance 
of  a much  more  advanced  age.  At  first  glance,  one  would 
have  recognized  in  him  the  scholar  and  the  recluse  ; for, 
besides  the  student  dress  that  he  wore,  there  was  that  in 
his  thoughtful  face  and  massive  forehead,  his  large, 
dreamy  eyes  and  general  figure  and  demeanor,  which 
marked  him  as  the  retiring  scholar  who  shunned  the 
world  and  its  busy  whirl  of  labor  and  pleasure  to  court 
solitude  and  the  pursuits  of  the  intellectual  life.  In  youth 
he  must  have  been  of  a remarkably  handsome  and  com- 
manding presence  ; for  even  now  in  old  age  his  wasted 
form  was  tall  and  erect,  his  step,  though  slow,  was  yet 
light  and  firm,  the  contour  of  his  face  was  regular  and 
well-formed,  and  an  air  of  quiet  dignity  and  thoughtful- 
ness in  his  bearing  betokened  him  to  be  of  noble  birth  and 
accustomed  to  command. 


202  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Of  his  companion,  a young  woman  of  twenty  years, 
how  shall  we  speak  ? What  exquisite  loveliness  of  form 
and  feature  did  she  not  possess  ? Were  there  ever  eyes 
more  softly  lustrous  than  the  dark  blue  ones  of  this 
maiden,  or  richer  masses  of  glossy  raven  hair,  or  features 
more  beautifully  moulded,  or  lip  and  brow  touched  with 
a gentler  dignity  and  tenderness,  or  hands  more  shapely 
and  delicate,  or  form  comelier  than  hers  ? And  as  she 
turned  to  speak  to  the  old  man  at  her  side,  no  meadow 
brook  was  ever  softer  or  more  musical  in  its  murmurs 
beneath  the  summer  flowers  than  was  the  sound  of  this 
maiden’s  voice. 

“ My  father,  thou  art  weary  ; it  was  wrong  in  me  to  ask 
thee  to  climb  this  height.  ” 

“ Nay,  nay,  dear  child  ! ” returned  the  other,  faintly, 
yet  soothingly  withal.  “ Reproach  not  thyself ! The 
ascent  was,  indeed,  trying  to  one,  who  for  the  past  month 
has  not  looked  once  on  the  face  of  the  sky  ; yet  a little 
rest,  Una,  a little  rest,  and  I shall  be  myself  again  ; ” and 
the  old  man,  pallid  and  exhausted  with  his  late  exertion, 
closing  his  eyes  in  his  weariness,  leaned  back  against  the 
trunk  of  a small  mountain  pine  that  had  found  a cranny 
in  the  bowlder  with  soil  enough  therein  to  support  its 
stunted  growth. 

For  a time  the  girl’s  eyes  rested  on  her  father’s  thin, 
pinched  face,  and  a shadow  of  sadness  stole  over  her 
sweet  countenance  ; but  at  the  prompting  of  some  hap- 
pier train  of  thought,  this  disappeared,  and  in  its  place  a 
bright  smile  irradiated  her  features.  The  old  man,  open- 
ing his  eyes  and  perceiving  his  daughter’s  joyful  face, 
said  in  tones  of  gentle  reproof : 

“ Day  dreams  and  visions  again,  O,  my  Una  ! Beware  ! 
Beware  ! Bitter,  indeed,  will  be  thy  disappointment,  if, 
haply,  thou  shouldst  find  thy  expectation  vain  !” 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  203 


The  girl’s  face  assumed  a more  sober  expression. 

“True,  dear  father  ; but  did  I not  hear  some  pilgrims 
yesternoon  say  that  they  beheld  from  yonder  height 
across  the  bay  the  sails  of  a large  foreign  vessel  approach- 
ing our  coast  ? Were  there  no  ship  in  Nagasaki  harbor, 
Ando  would  have  returned  before  this.” 

“ Pray  God,  my  child,  that  you  may  be  right  ! Not 
for  my  sake,  dear  Una,  but  for  thine  own.” 

From  these  words  of  the  father  and  daughter,  the 
reader,  who  remembers  the  conversation  between  Oyano 
and  the  hunchback  during  their  journey  together  on  the 
Mogi  highway,  will  have  no  difficulty  in  divining  who 
they  were.  None  other,  indeed,  was  that  old  man  than 
the  Lord  Mori  of  Oyano’s  story,  and  this  fair  young  girl, 
no  one  else  but  Ando’s  mistress,  the  daughter  of  the 
English  wife  whom  the  Prince  of  Kai  had  brought  to  his 
ancestral  home  from  her  far-off  native  land,  a maiden  in 
whose  veins  flowed  the  blood  of  the  Oriental  and  of  the 
Westerner,  of  Asia  and  of  Europe,  Una  the  Eurasian. 

Lord  Mori,  leaning  back  against  the  tree,  again  closed 
his  eyes  ; and  Una’s  gaze  wandered  over  the  broad  plain 
below,  that  sloped,  at  a gentle  inclination,  from  the  foot- 
hills to  the  shore  of  the  bay.  Far  off  to  her  left,  the  girl 
descried  a rocky  promontory  extending  some  considerable 
distance  into  the  sea,  and  on  the  extreme  point  of  this 
rose  the  walls  of  Hara  Castle,  the  stronghold  of  the 
Christians,  who  had  taken  up  arms  against  their  rulers. 
Across  the  narrow  neck  of  land  connecting  the  castle 
with  the  plain,  fortifications  had  been  thrown  up,  and  a 
broad,  deep  fosse  dug.  Far  out  into  the  plain,  the  Chris- 
tian lines  extended,  and  up  toward  the  mountains  a 
number  of  rude  defenses  had  been  constructed  ; and 
Una,  looking  down  on  one  of  the  foot-hills  at  her  feet, 
saw  a body  of  insurgents  busily  engaged  in  fortifying  its 


204  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


summit,  that  they  might  command  the  mountain  pass 
directly  opposite.  In  the  open  plain  before  the  castle, 
what  had  been  but  a month  before  nothing  more  than  a 
little  village,  was  now  the  city  of  Arima,  with  nearly 
forty  thousand  inhabitants  ; for  here  had  all  the  Chris- 
tians of  Amakusa  and  Shimabara  assembled,  and  daily 
were  their  numbers  augmented  by  new  recruits  from  the 
surrounding  provinces.  The  plain  was  alive  with  the 
bustle  of  preparation  for  war.  Men  and  women,  old  and 
young  labored,  side  by  side,  some  digging  deep  and 
wide  trenches,  which,  as  soon  as  completed,  were  flooded 
with  water  from  the  mountain  streams ; others  were 
busily  engaged  in  transporting  provisions  from  the 
country  granaries  to  those  within  the  castle  ; still  others 
were  employed  in  the  manufacture  of  bows,  arrows  and 
catapults,  and  these  in  large  quantities,  together  with 
huge  piles  of  broken  stones  for  the  slingers,  were  col- 
lected and  stored  away  in  places  prepared  for  them 
within  the  walls. 

The  sight  that  now  met  Una’s  eyes  as  she  looked  down 
on  the  plain  of  the  Christians,  and  the  confused  murmur 
of  sound  that  was  borne  to  her  ears  from  the  busy  mul- 
titude below  were  no  new  experience  to  the  young  girl. 
Day  after  day,  for  more  than  a month,  she  had  gazed 
down  from  her  lofty  look-out  upon  just  such  an  ani- 
mated scene  as  the  one  now  before  her.  It  had  not  been, 
therefore,  to  watch  the  preparations  for  war  that  she  and 
her  father  had  this  day  come  hither. 

II. 

THE  PROTESTANT  OF  UNZEN. 

With  all  her  gentle  tenderness  and  sweet  disposition, 
Una  Mori  possessed  great  strength  of  mind  and  fortitude 


Paoli : the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  205 


of  spirit,  that  the  peculiar  conditions  under  which  she 
had  grown  up  from  childhood  had  served  to  develop, 
making  her,  for  one  of  her  years,  a wonderfully  discern- 
ing and  resolute  woman. 

Ever  since  her  father  had  renounced  his  title  and  posi- 
tion as  a prince  and  had  retired  to  their  present  retreat, 
his  mind  had  become  more  and  more  abstracted  from 
the  world  and  ever  the  more  closely  fixed  upon  his 
studies  and  his  plans  for  the  future  of  Christianity  in 
Japan.  For  be  it  known  that,  like  Bishop  Paoli  and 
Shiro,  Lord  Mori  was  also  an  enthusiast,  yes,  even  a 
fanatic,  if  the  reader  so  pleases  ; but  his  enthusiasm  and 
fanaticism  were  of  a type  widely  different  from  that  of 
the  other  two.  With  them  the  church  was  first,  the 
church  last : with  him,  Christ  was  all  in  all,  and  the 
Bible  the  veritable  Word  of  God,  the  one  safe  and  suffi- 
cient guide  for  the  conduct  of  life.  It  was  for  the  advo- 
cacy of  these  doctrines  that  Lord  Mori  had  incurred 
bitter  opposition  and  persecution,  nigh  even  to  the  taking 
of  his  life,  at  the  hands  of  the  missionaries.  It  was  his 
still  steadfast  belief  in  them  that  led  him,  after  the  death 
of  his  wife,  to  seek  an  asylum  from  both  his  heathen  and 
his  Christian  foes  in  the  hermitage  that  he  built  for  him- 
self, his  daughter,  and  the  few  faithful  retainers  who 
chose  to  follow  their  master’s  fortunes,  high  up  among 
the  mountain  fastnesses  of  Unzen. 

Here,  in  this  quiet  retreat,  sixteen  years  had  passed 
away — years  of  preparation,  Lord  Mori  was  accustomed 
to  say.  The  little  stock  of  English  books  that  he  and 
his  wife  had  brought  with  them  from  Europe  had  been 
read  and  read  again,  until  they  were,  in  large  part, 
memorized.  Years  of  his  time  had  been  spent  upon  a 
translation  of  the  Bible  into  his  native  language  ; and 
this  labor  he  had  come  to  regard  as  peculiarly  his 


2o6  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


divinely  appointed  work.  With  his  own  hand,  he  had 
prepared  hundreds  of  manuscript  copies  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. Binding  these  carefully,  he  would  lay  them  away, 
saying,  with  a gentle  smile  : "‘Wait,  dear  Book,  until,  in 
the  fullness  of  Heaven’s  own  time,  Japan  is  ready  to 
receive  the  Word  of  God,  instead  of  the  word  of  the 
missionaries.”  Thus  he  toiled  on  unceasingly  through 
long  years,  rising  with  the  dawn  and  bending  over  his 
manuscripts  until  midnight  ; and  as  the  number  of  his 
Bibles  increased,  the  strength  of  the  scribe  failed. 

Una,  a name  suggestive  of  one  of  the  characters  of  the 
hermit’s  favorite  English  author,  whose  great  work  he 
knew  by  heart,  from  her  early  girlhood  had  assumed  the 
management  of  the  little  household  ; and  latterly  in  her 
father’s  growing  feebleness,  she  had  become  his  almost 
constant  companion,  ministering  to  his  wants  and  assist- 
ing him  in  his  labors. 

But  while  the  father  heard  with  listless  interest  the 
tidings  that  their  servants  brought  them,  of  a great 
uprising  at  their  very  doors,  and  of  the  resolve  of  the 
government  to  destroy  all  who  bore  the  name  of  Christian, 
the  daughter,  with  her  keen,  discerning  foresight,  read 
in  these  ominous  reports  a warning  to  them,  too  clear  in 
its  import  to  be  mistaken.  Sooner  or  later,  some  lurking 
spy  would  discover  that,  though  no  cross  or  figure  of  the 
Virgin  was  to  be  found  in  the  Unzen  hermitage,  yet 
among  its  inmates  the  name  of  Christ  was  honored  above 
every  other  name,  and  that  there,  morn  and  eve,  prayer 
and  praise  went  up  from  faithful  hearts  to  the  God  of  the 
Christians.  Then  Una,  courageous  and  self-reliant  as  she 
was,  would  shudder  as  she  reflected  upon  the  terrible 
consequences  which  she  well  knew  would  inevitably 
follow  the  discovery  that  they  were  believers  in  any  form 
of  the  proscribed  religion.  To  her  there  was  but  one 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  207 


safe  asylum — England,  the  land  of  her  mother’s  birth. 
Could  they  but  secure  passage  thither  by  some  of  the 
Dutch  merchantmen,  they  would  be  safe.  It  required 
hours  of  patient  reasoning  and  explanation  to  convince 
her  father  that  danger  really  threatened  them,  and  then 
days  of  entreaty,  prayers  and  tears  were  spent  in  gaining 
his  consent  to  leave  his  native  shores  again,  this  time 
forever.  But  finally  the  heart  of  the  father  prevailed 
over  that  of  the  scholar  and  the  would-be  reformer.  For 
himself  he  cared  not ; but  the  prospect  of  certain  dis- 
honor, torture  and  death  that  awaited  his  darling  child, 
should  they  be  detected,  terrified  him  at  last  not  only 
into  a consent  to  their  leaving  Japan,  but  also  into  a ner- 
vous apprehension  of  immediate  peril  and  a feverish 
anxiety  to  get  away. 

“ It  was  the  desire  of  my  manhood,  and  long  has  it 
been  the  dream  of  my  old  age  to  give  the  people  of  our 
Japan  the  Christianity  of  the  Word  of  God,”  said  Lord 
Mori  to  his  daughter  one  evening,  after  they  had  been 
discussing  their  contemplated  flight,  “yet  never  in  my 
lifetime  shall  this  desire  and  this  dream  be  fulfilled.  My 
daughter,  we  shall  go  to  the  land  whence  came  thy 
mother  ; but  before  we  leave  this  hermitage,  hallowed  to 
my  memory,  O my  child,  by  all  the  tender  ties  that  bind 
this  heart  of  mine  to  the  beloved  labor  of  long  years,  I 
shall  hide  safe  and  deep  in  the  cave  behind  our  house  all 
these  into  which  I have  poured  the  strength  of  my  life,” 
and  the  old  man  laid  his  arms  lovingly  over  the  high 
stack  of  manuscript  Bibles  piled  up  in  a corner  of  the 
room.  “ And  then,  when  the  doctrines  of  the  missionaries 
are  utterly  extirpated  in  Japan,  I shall  write  to  my  fellow 
princes  that  they  have  indeed  destroyed  a church  but  not 
the  Christ.  His  caricature  only  have  they  beheld  ; but 
would  they  know  Him  and  see  Him  as  He  is,  let  them  go 


208  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


to  Unzen  and  there,  in  the  place  which  I shall  designate, 
they  will  find  Him  awaiting,  in  His  infinite  patience,  the 
fullness  of  the  time  when  the  people  of  my  native  land 
shall  permit  Him  to  speak  in  His  own  behalf.” 

It  was  shortly  after  this  that  Ando,  going  to  Nagasaki, 
learned  that  the  Dutch  traders  had  been,  for  a month  or 
more,  expecting  the  arrival  of  a ship.  Twice  a week 
thereafter  had  the  hunchback  gone  to  the  city,  and  on 
the  evening  of  the  execution  of  the  Christian  prisoners 
he  was  on  his  way  thither  once  more  when  Oyano,  dis- 
guised as  a musha-shugoja,  had  overtaken  him  on  the  Mo- 
gi  highway,  and  the  conversation,  narrated  in  a preced- 
ing chapter,  ensued.  The  rumor  that  a foreign  sail  had 
been  seen  approaching  the  coast  had  reached  Unzen  the 
day  before,  and  Una  felt  confident  that  this  time  Ando 
would  bring  back  the  report  that  the  long-expected  ship 
was  lying  in  Nagasaki  Bay,  and  she  had  persuaded  her 
father  to  accompany  her  to  her  lookout  station,  from 
which,  for  a full  league,  the  road  by  which  the  hunchback 
would  return,  lay  in  open  view. 

Looking  down  this  highway,  Una  perceived  a cloud  of 
dust  raised  by  some  large  company  moving  toward  them 
over  the  mountain  road. 

“Look,  father,”  said  the  girl,  pointing  toward  the 
approaching  troop.  “Yonder  comes  a goodly  throng  of 
people  ! What  may  they  be,  thinkest  thou  ?” 

“Alas  ! my  child,”  Lord  Mori  replied,  as  he  turned  his 
attention  in  the  direction  indicated  by  Una’s  outstretched 
hand,  “ I see  but  a cloud  of  dust.  These  dim  old  eyes  of 
mine  are  too  weak  to  distinguish  more.  But  what  say 
you  they  are?” 

“Christians,  methinks  ; ah,  so  they  are,  for  just  now  I 
caught  a glimpse  of  their  banner  with  its  red  cross  on  a 
white  field.  And  yonder  chieftain  riding  ahead  is  Ashi- 


“I  BEHELD  THK  JESUIT'S  TERRIBLE  FORM  TOWERING  OVER  LORD  NABESHJMA.” — See  Page  ‘217. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  21 1 


zuka,  bravest  and  best,  they  say,  of  all  the  Christian  war- 
riors. By  his  side  rides  a tall  and  noble-looking  man 
clad  in — what?  not,  most  surely,  the  armor  of  the  Samu- 
rai, for  his  fits  close  to  his  body,  and  the  fashion  of  his 
helmet  is  such  as  I never  saw  before.  Behind  these  comes 
a body  of  mounted  men,  then  foot-soldiers,  and  after  these 
a large  company  of  men  and  women,  and  these,  in  turn, 
are  followed  by  another  detachment  of  warriors.” 

“ Some  villagers,  most  probably,”  said  her  father. 
“They  have  risen  in  revolt,  and  are  now  on  their  way  to 
join  the  insurgents  at  Arima.” 

“Yet  I understand  not  Ashizuka’s  presence  among 
them,”  responded  the  maiden.  “ I saw  him  yestereven, 
with  a large  company  of  armed  men,  hastening  down 
this  road  in  the  direction  of  Obama.  Perchance,  how- 
ever, he  was  on  his  way  to  escort  these  hither.” 

“ So,  perhaps,”  returned  the  old  man  ; “ but  look  again 
down  the  highway,  dear  child.  See  you  aught  yet  of 
Ando  ?“ 

“Would  Sensei*  behold  his  unworthy  servant,  he  has 
but  to  look  this  way,”  said  a low,  musical  voice  at  their 
side,  and  with  a cry  of  joyful  surprise,  father  and  daugh- 
ter turned  to  see  at  the  other  end  of  the  bowlder,  on 
which  they  were  sitting,  the  childlike,  smiling  face  and 
dwarfish  figure  of  the  hunchback. 

* Master ; a respectful  form  of  address,  used  by  students  and 
others  in  addressing  their  teachers  or  superiors  in  learning. 


212  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


III. 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  RESCUE. 

“ Ando  !”  exclaimed  Una,  joyfully.  “ It  is  indeed 
you  !” 

“Ay,  mistress,  thy  servant,”  said  the  hunchback, 
kneeling  before  the  young  girl,  and  pressing  her  hand  to 
his  lips,  a custom  he  had  learned,  not  from  the  manners 
of  the  East,  but  from  the  English  books  of  chivalry  in 
Lord  Mori’s  library. 

“ And  the  ship,  O Ando  ? Has  the  ship  that  is  to  bear 
us  away  to  peace  and  safety  come  ?” 

“ The  long-expected  merchantman,  my  mistress,  is 
lying  in  Nagasaki  harbor.” 

With  a glad  cry,  the  girl  threw  her  arms  about  her 
father’s  neck. 

“Dear  father,  the  time  has  come.  Let  us  hasten  our 
departure.  See  !”  she  added,  pointing  to  the  plain  of 
the  Christians  ; “ they  are  making  ready  for  defense. 
Shortly  the  government  troops  will  be  here  to  attack 
them  ; these  mountains  will  then  be  full  of  the  enemies 
of  our  faith  ; escape  will  be  no  longer  possible.  Let  us 
flee  now  while  yet  there  is  time.” 

“ Nay,  mistress,”  the  hunchback  broke  in  ; “ wait.  I 
have  much  to  tell  thee.  Escape,  methinks,  will  be  pos- 
sible ; but  we  cannot  go  as  soon,  perchance,  as  thou 
wouldst  wish.” 

Then  Ando  told  the  story  of  his  meeting  with  Oyano 
on  the  way  to  Nagasaki,  of  the  fright  the  latter  had 
given  him,  and  of  his  subsequent  disclosure  that  he,  too, 
was  a Christian  and  a former  retainer  of  Lord  Mori. 

“Ah,  well  do  I remember  him,"  said  the  old  man. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


213 


“He  was  a zealous  disciple  of  the  missionaries,  yet 
withal  a faithful  vassal  of  mine  When  Paoli  was  plot- 
ting to  seize  and  transport  me  to  some  lonely  place, 
where  he  could  try  me  for  heresy  and  put  me  to  death, 
it  was  Oyano  who  played  the  spy  upon  his  movements 
and  disclosed  to  me  his  designs.  And  now  you  say, 
Ando,  that  he  is  one  of  the  insurgent  chiefs?” 

“ Even  so,  Sensei .” 

“ Why  ventured  he,  Ando,  to  go  to  Nagasaki,  the 
stronghold  of  his  foes  ?” 

Briefly  then  the  hunchback  gave  an  account  of  Paoli’s 
and  Shiro’s  return  to  Japan,  of  the  Takaboka  massacre, 
of  the  governor’s  preparation  for  a wholesale  execution 
of  Christian  prisoners,  of  Paoli’s  plan  for  their  rescue,  of 
the  plot  against  the  Spuyten  Duyvil , and  of  Oyano’s  part 
in  the  proposed  deliverance  of  the  captives. 

With  breathless  interest,  Una  and  her  father  listened 
to  the  marvelous  tale ; and  when  Ando  spoke  of  their 
arrival  at  Higashi-yama  and  his  first  sight  of  Marmion 
Beaumont,  the  Englishman,  with  his  fair  face  and  com- 
manding figure,  the  girl  clasped  her  father’s  arm. 

“ Hear  him,  my  father ! He  has  looked  upon  one  of 
my  kin  beyond  the  sea,  one  of  that  goodly  race  of  which 
you  have  so  often  spoken.  Alas  ! alas  ! that  I should 
hurt  thy  gentle  heart  ! But  I,  who  remember  not  my 
mother’s  face,  I,  who  have  never  looked  upon  the  coun- 
tenance of  one  whose  native  speech  was  hers — forgive 
me,  dear  father,  if  half  my  being  longs  to  behold  those 
men  and  women  to  whom  it  is  bound  by  the  bond  of  a 
mother’s  blood.” 

Smiling  sadly,  the  old  man  laid  his  hand  with  a caress- 
ing touch  upon  his  daughter’s  bowed  head. 

“Nay,  my  dear  Una,  there  is  naught  to  forgive.  It 
suffices  me  that  thou  lovest  thy  father.  Dost  thou  not 


214  Paoh  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


know,  my  daughter,  that  thou  art  the  very  image  of  thy 
mother  ? Neither  in  form  nor  feature  art  thou  a child  of 
Japan  ; and  should  I marvel  that  thy  heart  goes  out  in 
passionate  yearning  to  look  upon  thy  yet  unseen  kin- 
dred ? But  now  let  us  attend  Ando’s  story,  child  ; how 
fared  the  enterprise  of  Paoli  and  Oyano  ?” 

“Yes,  go  on,  Ando,”  added  the  young  girl  eagerly,  her 
mind  still  dwelling  upon  the  Englishman,  and  her  inter- 
est in  the  hunchback’s  narrative  centering  in  him.  Ando 
continued : 

“ I was  seated  on  a rock,  Oyano  standing  close  by  me  ; 
the  two  outlaws,  Gonroku  and  Gohei,  had  disappeared 
among  the  spectators  ; then  the  Christian  captives  were 
brought  up  to  the  grounds  by  the  soldiers.  Immediately 
the  mob  raised  such  a savage  outcry  for  their  blood, 
that  my  heart  grew  faint  at  the  sound.  From  where  I 
sat  I had  an  excellent  view  of  both  the  spectators  and  the 
prisoners.  I beheld  a religious  pilgrim  leap  over  the  bar- 
rier that  had  been  raised  along  the  edge  of  the  execution 
grounds  to  keep  back  the  populace.  A soldier  knocked 
the  fellow  down.  Thereupon  a fierce  yell  arose  from  the 
mob,  and  at  once,  more  than  a hundred  sprang  over 
among  the  guards  and  a fierce  struggle  ensued.  It  was 
then  that  Oyano  sent  up  his  signal.  In  the  brief  interval 
that  elapsed  before  Paoli’s  answering  rocket  appeared, 
the  encounter  on  the  execution  grounds  developed  into  a 
desperate  fight.  The  mob,  pouring  down  upon  the  sol- 
diers in  overwhelming  numbers,  drove  them  back  and  be- 
gan to  bind  some  of  the  prisoners  to  the  stakes,  and  was 
preparing  to  nail  others  to  the  crosses.  Just  then  a 
stream  of  red  flame  shot  upward  into  the  sky,  and  a mo- 
ment later  a white  cross  was  seen  floating  downward 
upon  the  heads  of  the  people.” 

“ A wild  scream  arose  as  the  spectators  beheld  this 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  2 1 5 


symbol  of  the  hated  religion  above  them  ;and,  among  the 
terrified  shrieks  of  thousands,  arose  the  cry  that  the  God 
of  the  Christians  was  Himself  coming  to  deliver  1 1 is  fol- 
lowers. It  was  just  at  this  juncture  that  I heard  the  roar 
of  cannon,  and,  looking  toward  the  bay,  I beheld  the 
flashing  of  guns  in  the  direction  of  the  foreign  ship  ; and 
I knew  at  once  that  a detachment  of  Gonroku’s  outlaws 
was  making  an  attack  upon  the  seamen  still  aboard.” 

An  exclamation  of  horror  from  the  two  listeners  inter- 
rupted the  speaker. 

“ Heed  us  not,  good  Ando,”  Lord  Mori  cried  anxiously. 
“ Go  on,  go  on  ! What  happened  then  ?” 

“ Then  I turned  my  eyes  from  the  ship  to  the  foreigners 
on  the  grounds  below  me.  I saw  the  young  Englishman, 
followed  by  the  two  traders  and  the  Dutch  captain  dash 
out  of  the  pavilion,  and,  above  all  the  hideous  uproar 
around  me,  I heard  the  captain  shouting  out  some  com- 
mand to  his  men,  that  were  now  gathered  about  him,  and 
then  the  whole  party,  rushed  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
bay.” 

“ And  they  made  good  their  escape,  did  they  not,  Ando  ?” 
interrupted  Una,  breathlessly.  “They  arrived  at  their 
ship  in  time  to  save  it  and  their  comrades  from  Gonroku 
and  his  murderers,  was  it  not  so  ?” 

“ Nay,  nay,  now  ! Patience,  I pray  thee,  dear  mistress  ! 
I shall  hasten  on  anon  to  tell  thee,”  replied  the  hunchback, 
withasmile.  “Atthesame  instant  that  the  foreigners 
dashed  off  into  the  darkness,  the  air  was  rent  with  the 
battle-cry  of  the  Christians  : ‘ Yaso-Maria,  Takaboka  and 
vengeance  !”  Ovano,  shouting  to  me  to  hide  myself  be- 
neath the  rock  rushed  with  drawn  sword  down  the  hill. 
In  the  thrilling  excitement  of  the  moment,  I became 
heedless  of  the  peril  to  which  my  conspicuous  position 
exposed  me  ; and  I was  so  fascinated  by  the  terrors  of 


216  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  awful  scene,  that  I seemed  to  lose  both  power  and 
desire  to  conceal  myself.  The  Christians,  disguised 
among  the  spectators,  now  drew  their  weapons  and  made 
a furious  assault  upon  the  mob.  At  the  same  time,  Ashi- 
zuka,  with  his  force  of  insurgents  from  Arima,  attacked 
the  multitude  from  the  crest  of  the  hill,  their  merciless 
swords  cutting  down  the  guilty  and,  alas  ! I fear,  the  in- 
nocent alike.  The  terrified  spectators  fled  shrieking  from 
the  place,  as  fast  as  they  could  extricate  themselves  from 
the  whirling  press  of  soldiers,  citizens,  prisoners  and  at- 
tacking Christians  mixed  together  in  the  most  inde- 
scrible  confusion. 

“ Again  another  wild  shout  from  the  Christians  : ‘ Yaso- 

Maria,  Paoli  to  the  rescue,’  drew  my  attention  to  the  exe- 
cution grounds.  The  Jesuit,  at  the  head  of  more  than  two 
hundred  Christians,  had  burst  into  the  open  space  before 
the  pavilion.  He  was  clad  from  head  to  foot  in  a suit  of 
European  mail,  and  carried  no  arms  save  a ponderous  bat- 
tle-ax. Never  was  such  a terrible  weapon  pitted  against 
Japanese  sword  and  armor  ! The  former  was  too  short  to 
cope  with  it,  the  latter  afforded  no  protection  against  its  de- 
scending edge.  Little  indeed,  did  that  warrior-bishop  re- 
semble a servant  of  our  gentle  Saviour,  as,  with  the  fiery 
courage  and  prowess  of  some  heroic  crusader,  he  hewed 
his  way  up  to  the  very  entrance  of  the  pavilion,  and  there, 
whirling  his  ax  above  his  head,  he  thundered  forth  in 
tones  that  reached  my  ears  above  the  shouts  of  the  com- 
batant", the  screams  of  the  terrified  spectators,  and  the 
shrieks  of  the  wounded  : ‘ Ho,  thou  bloody  destroyer  of 

babes  ! Thou,  who  hast  doubled  the  price  set  upon  the 
head  of  Paoli,  know  that  I am  he  !’  Then,  with  a tre- 
mendous leap,  he  sprang  upon  the  stage,  and  with  an- 
other bound,  was  at  the  governor’s  side.  I saw  his  ax 
rise  and  fall,  and  then  I perceived  that  Lord  Oda  was 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  217 


lying  prostrate  at  his  feet.  Cutting  down  all  who  dared 
to  remain  and  oppose  him  in  the  pavilion,  the  bishop  once 
again  dashed  into  the  fray  that  was  raging  around  the 
prisoners.  Thy  cousin,  Sensei,  the  Prince  of  Kai,  with 
his  little  band  of  guardsmen,  had  thrown  himself  between 
the  captives  and  Ashizuka’s  force,  and  was  successfully 
resisting  the  latter’s  attempts  to  reach  them.  A great 
shout  of  ‘ Paoli  ! Paoli  ! Paoli  to  the  rescue  !’  arose,  and 
I beheld  the  Jesuit's  terrible  form  towering  over  Lord 
Nabeshima,  whose  sword  he  had  dashed  from  his  hand. 
Methought,  as  I beheld  that  murderous  ax  swinging  aloft, 
that  the  Prince  was  doomed  ; but  one  of  his  retainers, 
hurling  his  lord  aside  with  his  hands,  received  the  fatal 
blow  intended  for  him,  and  the  faithful  vassal,  cloven  to 
the  teeth,  sank  to  the  earth. 

“‘Just  then,  some  one  seizing  me,  dragged  me  from  the 
rock  and  pushed  me  into  the  hollow  beneath.  It  was 
Oyano,  his  face  soiled  and  bleeding,  and  his  sword  stained 
with  blood.” 

“Still  the  same  brave  heart  as  of  old,”  murmured  the 
old  man,  musingly.  “ Always  thoughtful  for  the  safety 
of  others,  reckless  of  the  dangers  to  which  he  exposed 
himself  !” 

“ Soon  the  battle  was  raging  around  my  place  of  refuge,” 
continued  the  little  hunchback.  “ I could  hear  the  deep 
breathing  of  the  warriors,  the  horrible  cutting  thud  of 
their  blows,  and,  mingling  with  all  other  sounds,  the 
incessant  cry  : ‘ Paoli  ! Paoli  ! ’ I lay  in  my  retreat 
until  the  tumult  of  battle  had  rolled  eastward  beyond 
my  hearing,  and  then,  as  I crawled  forth,  what  a sight 
met  my  eyes  ! A late  moon  hung  like  a silver  crescent  in 
the  eastern  sky  and  its  faint  light  was  sufficient  to  dis- 
close the  heaps  of  slain  that  covered  the  hill-side.  On  the 
execution  grounds,  the  dead  lay  thickest,  for  there  the 


218  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


battle  had  been  exceedingly  bitter.  The  candles  were 
burned  out,  but  the  gaily  painted  lanterns  were  swing- 
ing to  and  fro  in  the  night  wind.  The  stakes  and  the 
crosses  had  been  torn  from  their  places,  and  lay  scattered 
about  among  the  slain.  The  governor’s  pavilion  was 
broken  down,  and  the  mats,  upon  which  he  and  the  offi- 
cials of  state  and  army  had  been  seated,  were  soaked 
with  blood.  Here  and  there  a wounded  man  was  feebly 
calling  for  help.  Climbing  to  the  crest  of  the  hill  I looked 
off  in  the  direction  of  Mogi,  and  as  far  as  my  eye  could 
reach,  the  same  heart-sickening  evidences  of  carnage 
were  to  be  seen.  A disabled  soldier  was  slowly  and  pain- 
fully making  his  way  toward  the  city,  and  in  reply  to  my 
inquiries,  he  said  that  the  Christians  had  rescued  the 
prisoners,  made  good  their  retreat,  and  were,  probably 
by  that  time,  crossing  the  bay  to  Arima.” 

“And  the  foreigners,  Ando?”  said  Una,  unable  any 
longer  to  control  her  anxiety  ; “ did  they  escape  ?” 

“Ay,  mistress.  By  dint  of  hard  blows,  Van  Sylt,  the 
officer  in  command  of  the  ship,  kept  his  assailants  at  bay 
until  the  captain  with  the  seamen  from  the  shore  came 
to  his  assistance.  Then,  learning  the  defeat  of  their 
chieftain’s  plans,  the  outlaws  hastily  withdrew  from  the 
attack.” 


IV. 

HOPES  AND  FEARS. 

“When  does  the  foreign  ship  set  sail  on  her  homeward 
voyage?”  inquired  Lord  Mori,  racked  in  soul  between 
his  eagerness  to  get  his  child  beyond  the  reach  of  danger, 
and  the  bitterness  of  leaving  his  native  shores  to  see 
them  no  more. 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  2 1 9 


“ Ah  ! that  God  alone  knows,  Sensei.  Her  captain, 
Van  Neist,  has  engaged  to  bring  his  vessel  to  Arima  to 
assist  the  government  troops  against  the  insurgents. 
Lord  Oda  is  lying  at  the  point  of  death  from  the  wounds 
he  received  from  Paoli  last  night,  and  Kanshin,  his 
deputy,  was  killed  in  an  attack  he  made  upon  the 
foreigners  on  their  way  to  the  shore  from  the  execution 
grounds.  Baba,  the  vice-governor,  is  now  at  the  head  of 
affairs,  and  we  may  be  sure  that  he  will  not  release  Van 
Neist  from  his  contract.  The  Dutch  captain  will,  there- 
fore, first  take  his  vessel  to  Hirado,  to  discharge  the 
cargo  she  has  for  the  factory  at  that  point,  and  then,  as 
quickly  as  possible,  will  report  for  service  at  Arima.” 

“ Patience,  patience,  dear  child,”  said  the  old  man, 
gently,  as  he  perceived  the  look  of  bitter  disappointment 
on  his  daughter’s  face,  and  added  reverently:  “Our 

lives,  my  Una,  are  in  the  hands  of  Him  that  careth 
for  us.” 

The  girl  seemed  not  to  hear  his  words. 

“O  my  father,”  she  cried,  bursting  into  a storm  of 
passionate  sobs  ; “ we  are  lost  ! In  all  Japan,  outside  of 
our  own  little  household,  there  is  no  soul  in  whom  we 
may  trust  ! Robbers  may  make  us  their  spoil  ; the  now 
maddened  heathen  may  persecute  us  even  to  death  ; 
and,  in  the  hour  of  our  peril,  to  whom  can  we  flee  ? 
Not  to  thy  kinsman,  the  Lord  of  Kai,  for  he,  alas  ! hath 
no  sympathy  or  shelter  for  those  of  any  faith  ; we  may 
not  seek  an  asylum  among  yonder  Christians,  for,  with 
Paoli  among  them,  they  would  be  as  bitter  against  us 
as  are  their  foes  against  them.  O,  my  father,  we  are 
lost  !” 

“ Dear  mistress,  ” said  Ando,  again  bowing  before 
the  young  girl,  and  imprinting  a kiss  upon  her  hand, 


220  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“thou  dost  wrong  Prince  Nabeshima.  He  is  brave  and 
chivalrous,  and,  had  he  his  will,  all  people  would  have 
liberty  to  follow  the  dictates  of  their  own  consciences 
in  religious  matters.  He  is  our  friend,  and  if  need  be,  he 
will  be  our  protector.  He  is  to  be  here  to-morrow.  I saw 
him  this  morning  aboard  the  merchantman — ’’ 

“ Hast  thou  been  aboard  the  foreign  ship  ?”  exclaimed 
both  father  and  daughter,  in  one  breath. 

The  little  hunchback  perceived  that  Lord  Mori  and  Una 
were  grevously  disappointed  over  his  report  that  the 
Spuyten  Duyvil  was  to  remain  in  Japan  an  indefinite 
length  of  time.  With  a view,  therefore,  to  dispel  their 
sadness  and  despondency,  lie  assumed  as  gay  and  banter- 
ing a tone  and  manner  as  he  could  command  : 

“ Ay,  that  I have,”  he  returned  in  reply  to  their  ques- 
tion, and  using  the  English  tongue  ; for  in  Lord  Mori’s 
household  the  native  speech  of  Una’s  mother  was  as 
frequently  employed  as  was  the  language  of  Japan  : 
“And  ye  ought  to  have  heard  the  prince,  in  speaking  with 
the  Englishman,  laud  his  cousin,  Lord  Mori  ! Ay,  and 
thou,  too,  mistress  ! Marry  ! but  he  extolled  thee  as  the 
paragon  of  all  excellences  ! ” 

A blush  stole  into  Una’s  cheek,  and  a smile,  all  the 
brighter  because  it  shone  through  tears,  mounted  from 
lip  to  eye. 

“ Prithee,  enough  of  that,  sirrah  ! How  comes  it  that 
the  Prince  of  Kai,  was  aboard  the  foreign  ship  ?” 

“Troth,  mistress,  he  and  Master  Beaumont,  the 
Englishman,  have  become  such  sudden  and  fast  friends, 
that  people  say  they  seem  like  twin-brothers  re-united 
after  a long  separation.  The  Lord  Nebeshima  has  pre- 
vailed upon  his  new  friend  to  accompany  him  overland  to 
the  government  camp  at  Shimabara.  The  Englishman 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


2 2 I 


will,  therefore,  be  with  the  prince  when  he  passes  this 
way  to-morrow.  ” 

A cry  of  astonishment  from  the  father  greeted  this  an- 
nouncement. Una  was  silent,  and  Ando  continued  : 

“ Ye  have  not  heard  all.  Through  the  intercession  of 
Master  Beaumont  and  Lord  Nabeshima,  the  Dutch  cap- 
tain has  promised  to  take  you  with  him  on  his  return 
voyage  to  Amsterdam.  In  the  meantime,  your  cousin 
will  see  to  it  that  no  harm  befalls  you.  ” 


V. 

THE  HERMITAGE. 

The  hermitage  which  Lord  Mori  had  built  for  himself 
and  daughter  stood  at  the  head  of  a small,  secluded  val- 
ley, directly  beneath  the  main  peak  of  LTnzen.  A little 
grassy  plateau,  not  more  than  an  acre  in  extent,  lay  be- 
fore the  door.  On  three  sides  of  this  rose  the  mountain, 
clothed  with  a heavy  growth  of  pine.  In  front,  the 
plateau  terminated  in  a precipitous  wall  of  rock  that  fell 
fully  five  hundred  feet  to  the  valley  below.  It  was  in 
this  direction  alone  that  the  inmates  of  the  hermitage 
caught  any  glimpse  of  the  outside  world.  The  valley 
bore  away  to  the  south,  widening  as  it  approached  the 
plain,  and  from  the  little  plateau  at  its  head,  the  beholder 
looked  out  on  Hara  Castle  and  the  village  of  Arima  that 
lay  in  the  immediate  foreground.  On  the  left  stretched 
away  the  waters  of  the  Gulf  of  Shimabara  thickly  set 
with  clusters  of  little  islands,  and  upon  the  right,  the 
prospect  closed  in  the  gently  sloping  plain  covered  now 
with  the  camp  of  the  Christians. 

The  hermitage  itself  consisted  of  a medium-sized 
Japanese  house  built  against  the  face  of  the  mountain, 


222  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


covering  the  mouth  of  a little  grotto  that  extended  a 
short  distance  into  the  rocks.  The  outer  apartments  of 
the  dwelling  proper  constituted  the  living  rooms  of  the 
family  ; the  cavern  chamber,  fitted  up  with  hanging- 
lamps  and  furnished  with  many  conveniences,  European 
in  their  pattern,  served  Lord  Mori  as  a study,  and  here 
the  greater  part  of  his  time  was  spent. 

In  addition  to  the  father  and  the  daughter  and  the 
little  hunchback,  the  household  consisted  of  two  aged 
female  servants  and  a youth,  the  son  of  one  of  his  retain- 
ers who  had  followed  Lord  Mori  into  his  retirement,  and 
at  his  death,  had  besought  his  master  to  care  for  his 
motherless  child.  Sanji,  as  the  youth  was  called,  was 
now  sixteen,  and  his  part  in  the  domestic  economy  of 
the  hermitage  was  to  make  periodical  visits  to  Shima- 
bara  or  Ishihaya  to  purchase  food  and  such  other  things 
as  the  simple  wants  of  the  hermit’s  family  required. 

In  the  early  afternoon  of  the  day  following  Ando’s  re- 
turn from  Nagasaki,  Lord  Mori,  Una  and  the  hunchback 
were  seated  on  the  little  veranda  of  the  hermitage.  They 
were  evidently  expecting  some  one,  for  frequent  glances 
were  cast  by  one  or  other  of  the  three  toward  the  steep 
path  that  led  up  and  around  the  heights  to  the  left  of  the 
dwelling. 

“You  said  you  saw  him  half  an  hour  ago,  Ando?  It 
is  time  that  he  was  here.’’  It  was  Una  who  spoke. 

“You  are  all  too  impatient,  mistress,”  responded  the 
hunchback,  smiling.  “ Sanji,  I admit,  is  a nimble-footed 
lad,  but  remember  that  between  yonder  point,  where  I 
caught  a glimpse  of  him,  and  us,  a deep  valley  and  a toil- 
some climb  intervene.  But  there — doubt  my  eyes  again, 
wilt  thou  ? See,  there  he  comes  !”  and  Ando  pointed  up 
the  path  where  the  youth  could  be  seen  descending  the 
mountain. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  223 


“ Nay,  I yield,"  Una  returned,  good-humoredly. 
“Thine  eyes,  Ando,  are  all  thou  mayest  claim  them 
to  be.” 

“ Where  are  the  purchases  thou  wast  sent  to  make, 
boy?"  inquired  the  old  man,  as  Sanji  came  up  to  the 
group. 

“Alas,  Sensei,  in  Shimabara,  and  no  fault  of  mine  that 
they  are  !” 

“What  meanest  thou,  saucy  fellow?”  demanded  Una. 

Sanji  pretended  not  to  hear  his  young  mistress’s  ques- 
tion, nevertheless  he  answered  it,  addressing  her  father. 

“ The  government  troops,  Sensei,  fill  all  the  space  be- 
tween the  mountains  and  the  city,  and  it  was  in  vain 
that  I sought  a passage  through  them.  General  Itakura, 
early  this  morning,  gave  orders  to  transfer  the  camp  to 
Arima  to-day,  and  the  princes  and  captains  are  muster- 
ing their  forces  and  making  ready  for  battle.” 

“ A sudden  move,  is  it  not  ?” 

“ A soldier  told  me  that  the  army  was  impatient  to  be 
led  against  the  rebels.  Prince  Nabeshima’s  troops  arrived 
early  this  morning,  and  their  leader  is  expected  to-day. 
To-morrow  a battle  will  be  fought.” 

“ Are  the  troops  now  moving  against  the  Christians?” 
inquired  Una,  rising  to  her  feet. 

“ Ay,  mistress,”  responded  the  boy.  “ A grand  sight  it 
is  from  yonder  point  to  look  down  upon  them,  as  they 
wind  through  the  passes  below.” 

“Sanji,  do  thou  rest  a bit,  and  have  some  food,”  the 
girl  said.  “Then  haste  thee  to  Obama.  Thou  canst 
purchase  there  the  things  we  lack.  And  I,  dear  father,” 
continued  Una,  pressing  a kiss  on  her  parent’s  brow,  “I 
have  not  been  out  yet  to-day  ; let  me  go  to  see  the  army 
on  its  march.  I shall  soon  return.” 

The  old  man  hesitated.  “Una,”  he  said  gravely, 


224  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“thinkest  thou,  child,  there  is  no  danger  ? May  not  the 
mountains  be  full  of  spies,  sent  ahead  by  the  princes  to 
watch  the  movements  of  the  Christians?” 

“Saw  you  any?”  the  girl  inquired,  addressing  Sanji. 

“Nay,  none,  mistress  ; the  only  person  I met  was  old 
Shibata,  the  charcoal  burner.” 

“Thou  hearest  him,  father,”  Una  pleaded,  putting  her 
arm  caressingly  around  Lord  Mori’s  neck.  “ The  gov- 
ernment spies  would  scarcely  have  need  to  climb  to  such 
a height  as  this.  Let  me  go,  father,  I shall  not  be  mo- 
lested.” 

“Go,  then,  dear  child  ; yet,  I think,  Ando  had  better 
accompany  you.” 

“ Ay,  mistress,  do  not  refuse  my  companionship,”  said 
the  hunchback,  coming  to  Una’s  side,  his  eyes  upturned 
appealingly  to  hers. 

“ As  thou  wilt,  Ando,”  the  girl  replied.  “ I thought 
that  you  might  still  be  weary  from  your  journey  to  Na- 
gasaki and  then,  looking  down  on  the  dwarf  with  a 
soft  light  in  her  beautiful  eyes,  Una  added  lovingly  : 
“ Thy  company,  dear  Ando,  is  always  welcome.” 


VI. 

A DREAM  AND  A PORTRAIT. 

As  Ando  and  Una  were  hastening  up  the  path,  by 
which  Sanji  had  returned  to  the  hermitage,  the  little 
hunchback  suddenly  asked  : 

“Mistress,  hast  thou  forgotten  that  thy  father’s  cousin 
and  the  young  Englishman  are  to  visit  the  hermitage 
to-day.  Perchance  they  may  come  in  our  absence  ; what 
if  they  should  ?” 

“ Not  so,  I think.  They  are  coming,  you  have  said,  by 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  225 

the  Obama  road.  From  the  point  whither  we  are  going 
we  can  see  their  approach  in  time  to  return  to  the  house 
before  their  arrival.” 

“Ah,  mistress,”  said  the  hunchback,  roguishly,  “thy 
prompt  response  argues  premeditation.  Scarcely  me- 
thinks,  wouldst  thou  have  begged  thy  father’s  leave  to 
come  hadst  thou  thought  there  was  danger  of  missing 
the  prince  and  the  noble  stranger.” 

The  color  mounted  to  the  girl’s  temples.  Perceiving 
this,  Ando,  with  a mischievous  chuckle,  added,  falling 
again  into  the  English  speech  : 

“Prithee,  mistress,  the  truth  now.  Is  it  the  army, 
marching  over  the  Shimabara  foot-hills,  or  thy  father’s 
guests  on  the  Obama  highway,  that  thou  art  going  forth 
to  see  ?” 

The  girl  laughed  merrily. 

“ Both,  sweet  rogue  !”  was  her  frank  reply  ; and  then 
she  added  more  gravely  : 

“Thinkest  thou,  Ando,  that  I would  lose  this  first  op- 
portunity of  mine  to  behold  one  of  my  mother's  race  ? 
All  last  night  my  dreams  were  of  the  Englishman.  I 
saw  him,  but  something  concealed  his  face  that  I could 
not  look  upon  his  features  ; yet  I noted  his  tall,  com- 
manding figure,  and  I heard  his  strong  and  pleasant 
voice.  Methought  that  I was  in  peril  and  that  he  came 
to  my  rescue.  I saw  him  as  he  stretched  out  his  hand, 
bidding  me  come  to  him.  I endeavored  to  obey,  but  it 
seemed  that  a horrible  gulf  suddenly  yawned  between 
us.  In  its  awful  depths  I beheld  the  faces  of  fighting 
men,  and  some  of  these  were  wounded  and  others  dead. 
Up  from  its  seemingly  fathomless  depths  came  the  clash- 
ing uproar  of  war  ; and  still  all  the  time  I beheld  the 
stranger  on  the  farther  brink,  his  face  ever  concealed, 
yet  his  arms  always  outstretched  toward  me,  and  his 


226  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


voice  calling  upon  my  name.  Then,  in  my  dream,  me- 
thought  the  day  gave  place  to  the  night.  A storm — the 
fiercest  that  ever  swept  land  or  sea — blotted  out  the  stars 
above  and,  below,  filled  the  earth  with  its  fury.  For 
long  hours,  it  seemed,  the  pitiless  tempest  beat  upon  my 
uncovered  head.  In  the  gleaming  lightning  I still  saw 
the  awful,  yawning  chasm  before  me,  and,  lo  ! at  last,  as 
I looked  upon  it,  I beheld  it  closing  up,  hiding  the  wild 
faces  of  the  armies  and  stifling  the  voices  of  war.  And 
even  as  it  slowly  closed,  I felt  something  dragging  me 
into  its  depths.  Then  a strong  hand  reached  down  to 
my  rescue,  and  I felt  myself  drawn  upward  and  laid  at 
the  feet  of  the  Englishman.  I turned  to  thank  my  pre- 
server, but  he  was  himself  sinking  into  the  horrible  pit 
whence  he  had  but  rescued  me.  Then  the  chasm  closed 
above  him,  the  awful  sounds  were  hushed  into  silence, 
the  land  became  sea,  and  I heard  the  rush  of  angry 
waters  about  me.  I seemed  to  be  afloat,  the  English 
stranger  still  by  my  side,  my  hand  in  his.  Then  I would 
awaken  only  to  fall  asleep  again,  and  in  another  dream 
to  see  the  same  faces  and  to  hear  the  same  sounds.” 
“God  spake  of  old  to  his  children  in  visions  of  the 
night-time,”  the  hunchback  said  reverently,  when  Una 
had  finished  the  account  of  her  dream.  “ Perchance  He 
has  spoken  to  you  to  assure  you  that,  though  dangers 
and  trials  may  await  you,  deliverance  and  safety  are 
eventually  sure  to  come.  Would  I were  another  Joseph, 
that  I might  say  unto  thee,  dear  mistress,  as  he  said  unto 
his  companion  in  the  Egyptian  dungeon  : * This  is  the 
interpretation  thereof.’  Yet  I can  dispel  the  cloud  which 
thou  sayest  hid  the  face  of  the  stranger  from  thy  sight. 
The  morning  I was  aboard  the  Dutch  ship,  before  I 
knew  that  you  were  to  see  the  Englishman  so  soon,  I 
made  a sketch  of  his  face,  that  I might  give  it  to  thee. 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  227 


Neither  last  night  nor  this  morning  did  I have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  thee  alone.  But  now  are  we  together; 
and  behold,  mistress,  here  it  is  !” 

As  he  spoke,  Ando  thrust  his  hand  into  the  wide  sleeve 
of  his  haori*  and  drew  forth  the  portrait.  The  hunch- 
back must  have  had  the  artistic  instinct  strongly  devel- 
oped in  him,  for  the  picture  was  a life-like  sketch  of 
Marmion  Beaumont.  Eagerly  Una  seized  it,  and  long 
and  breathlessly  did  she  gaze  upon  the  face  of  the 
stranger,  a smile  wreathing  her  fair  countenance  and 
pleasure  sparkling  in  her  eyes. 

“ Ah,  Ando  !”  she  cried,  “ is  this  true  to  life  ? Has  not 
your  fancy,  rogue,  been  busy  here  ? I know  well  thy  skill 
to  transfer  to  paper  the  subtlest  expressions  and  the  finest 
lineaments  of  the  face ; but  tell  me,  has  your  art  here 
drawn  upon  your  imagination,  or  has  it  faithfully  followed 
nature  ?” 

“ Nay,  now,  mistress  mine  !”  cried  the  hunchback,  in 
playful  indignation  at  the  girl’s  insinuation.  “ What  is 
there  in  that  very  common  face  before  thee  that  would 
honor  the  imagination  of  a true  artist  ? As  the  stranger 
is  in  the  sketch,  methinks,  thou  shalt  see  him  to  be.” 

Una  bridled  up  in  a sportive  defense  of  the  English- 
man. 

“What!  Callest  thou  that  a common  face,  Ando? 
Father  says  that  England  is  a land  of  fair  women  and 
brave  men  ; but,  marry,  a brave,  fair  man  is  this  stranger, 
say  I and  with  a merry  peal  of  girlish  laughter  the 
maiden  thrust  the  portrait  into  her  bosom. 

During  the  remainder  of  their  walk  up  the  mountain, 
the  girl  fell  into  a silent  mood.  Before  her  ardent  young 
mind  danced  visions  of  coming  peace  and  happiness 


* An  outer  garment  or  tunic. 


228  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


amid  the  beauties  of  an  ideal  world  that  her  fancy  had 
created  and  called  England. 

The  path  was  rough  and  toilsome,  and  fully  an  hour 
was  consumed  in  reaching  the  point  whence  the  two 
could  look  down  upon  the  eastern  foot-hills.  As  they 
gained  the  crest  of  the  heights,  the  hunchback  sank  down 
by  the  wayside,  overcome  with  fatigue.  Una,  her  step 
as  airy  and  elastic  as  when  she  had  set  out  from  the 
hermitage,  sprang  upon  a rock,  and  an  exclamation  of 
delighted  surprise  broke  from  her  lips  as  she  beheld  all 
the  country  beneath  her  feet  swarming  with  government 
troops.  To  the  left,  the  roads  leading  from  Shimabara 
were  filled  with  long  columns  of  soldiers  marching 
around  the  mountain,  while,  upon  the  open  foot-hills  at 
her  right,  heavy  masses  of  troops  were  drawn  up,  await- 
ing the  arrival  of  the  remainder  of  the  army  that  was 
still  pouring  forth  in  a ceaseless  stream  of  mounted  war- 
riors and  footmen,  mailed  soldiers  and  camp-servants, 
from  the  cover  of  a heavy  wood  that  flanked  the  eastern 
base  of  Unzen. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  the  young  girl  had  looked 
upon  so  imposing  a spectacle.  Armor  of  every  color, 
banners  of  every  hue  and  form  were  there.  From  the 
gay  trappings  of  war  that  covered  them,  the  roads  that 
wound  among  the  lower  heights  appeared  like  brightly 
colored  ribbons  on  a green  field.  Over  the  slowly  mov- 
ing columns  on  the  open  hills  shone  the  bright  afternoon 
sun  ; and  above  the  heads  of  the  gayly  decorated  war- 
riors and  the  ensigns,  that  sparkled  with  jewels  and  gold, 
the  air  seemed  tremulous  with  that  semi-transparent 
shimmer  of  changing  color  that,  in  fine  weather,  is  fre- 
quently observed  to  hover  over  marching  armies. 

For  half  an  hour  or  more  Una  gazed  down  on  the  ani- 
mated spectacle,  and  ever  the  hills  became  more  densely 


Paoli  ; the  Last  oj  the  Missionaries.  229 


crowded  with  men  ; and  still,  in  unintermitted  succes- 
sion, column  after  column  marched  out  of  the  wood. 
More  than  a hundred  thousand  veteran  warriors,  levied 
from  among  all  the  retainers  of  the  Kiushiu  princes,  were 
going  forth  to  crush  a force  of  ill-armed  and  undisci- 
plined farmers,  fishermen  and  tradesmen  one-fourth  as 
large. 

Turning  her  eyes  from  the  foot-hills  below,  Una  now 
looked  toward  the  west,  where  the  Obama  highway  lay 
in  open  view.  A few  pedestrians  here  and  there  were  vis- 
ible, but  no  such  company  as  the  Prince  of  Kai  would  be 
certain  to  have  was  in  sight.  Going  to  the  place  where 
the  hunchback  was  still  reclining  by  the  wayside,  the  girl 
said  : 

“ When  you  are  rested,  Ando,  climb  up  on  the  rock 
where  I have  been  standing.  By  my  troth,  it  is  a brave 
sight,  and  well  worth  the  fatigue  of  coming  hither.  I 
have  looked  down  the  Obama  road,  and  the  prince  is  no- 
where to  be  seen.  Yesterday,  my  father  left  his  book  on 
my  lookout  yonder,”  pointing  to  the  peak  on  the  opposite 
side  of  a deep  ravine,  where  Ando,  the  day  before,  on  his 
return  from  Nagasaki,  had  found  father  and  daughter. 
“ I am  going  there  to  get  it.” 


VII. 

THE  HOST  OF  THE  KWASSUI-YA  HAS  A TALE  TO  TELL. 

A short  distance  inland  on  the  western  coast  of  the 
Shimabara  peninsula  lies  the  village  of  Obama,  celebrated 
throughout  southern  Japan  for  its  hot-springs.  The  vil- 
lage consists  of  scarcely  anything  more  than  a collection 
of  inns  and  bath-houses,  frequented  by  sick  folk  from 


230  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


every  quarter,  attracted  thither  by  the  medicinal  proper- 
ties of  the  water.  At  the  time  of  which  we  are  speaking, 
the  Kwassui-ya,  or,  as  we  would  say  in  English,  the  Liv- 
ing Water  Hotel,  was  the  largest  and  most  pretentious- 
appearing  public  house  in  Obama,  and  its  baths  had  a 
wide  celebrity  among  the  nobility  and  the  wealthier  class 
of  citizens. 

On  the  day  after  the  hunchback’s  return  from  Nagasa- 
ki, the  host  of  the  Kwassui-ya  was  seated  on  the  mats  be- 
fore the  open  doors  of  his  house,  in  the  company  of  a few 
of  his  guests.  They  were  discussing  what  had  become 
within  the  past  forty-eight  hours,  wherever  it  was  known, 
the  all-absorbing  topic  of  conversation  : the  rescue  of  the 
Christian  prisoners  at  Nagasaki.  One  of  the  guests,  who 
was  a new  arrival,  had  been  among  the  spectators  on 
Higashi-yama,  and  he  was  giving  the  landlord  a graphic 
account  of  the  affair. 

“ Ah,  ah  !”  sighed  the  host,  as  the  guest  finished  his 
story.  “ Evil  are  the  times  in  which  we  live,  and  evil,  me- 
thinks,  shall  they  remain  until  the  foul  doctrines  of  the 
jashiu-mon  are  stamped  out  of  Japan.” 

A hearty  murmur  of  assent  showed  that  all  present 
shared  the  same  view.  The  host  continued,  addressing 
his  remarks  to  the  stranger  : 

“ Yesterday  noon  that  accursed  Paoli,  with  the  rebel 
chieftain  Ashizuka  at  the  head  of  about  five  hundred  sol- 
diers from  the  Christian  camp  at  Arima,  conducting  the 
prisoners  that  they  had  rescued,  had  the  boldness  to  pass 
through  this  village  on  their  way  over  the  mountains. 
They  even  dared  to  halt  and  demand  food.” 

“Of  course,  you  refused  to  feed  the  dogs  !” 

“ In  my  heart,  yes,”  replied  the  host,  lugubriously. 
“Nevertheless,  I made  haste  to  set  all  I had  in  the  house 
before  them.  I knew  by  the  threatening  look  in  the  bar- 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


231 


barian’s  eye  that  if  I hesitated  I would  have  my  head  laid 
open  by  that  murderous  ax  of  his.” 

“ Humph  !”  returned  the  other,  contemptuously. 
“ Were  there  none  here  in  Obama  that  dared  to  arm  and 
attack  the  dogs  ?” 

“ The  sick  folk,  such  as  were  able  to  flee,  made  haste  to 
seek  the  cover  of  the  hills,”  returned  the  landlord,  a little 
nettled  at  the  guest’s  sneering  tone.  “The  handful  of 
innkeepers,  with  their  servants,  were  kept  too  busily 
engaged  in  waiting  upon  their  unwelcome  visitors  to  have 
time  to  get  together  to  plan  any  resistance.” 

The  stranger  laughed  sarcastically. 

“ Kekko,  by  the  gods  ! Then  the  Christians  quartered 
themselves  upon  the  village?” 

“That  they  did,”  responded  the  other,  mournfully. 
“ My  share  was  the  leaders  and  about  two  hundred  of 
those  that  had  been  prisoners.  The  other  yadoyas*  were 
likewise  filled  to  overflowing.  For  four  hours  they  kept 
us  sweating  like  slaves,  cooking  them  food  and  preparing 
their  baths.” 

“ Methinks  your  larder,  host,  was  well-nigh  empty 
when  they  left  you." 

“ Empty  ! Last  night,  friend,  there  was  not  food 
enough  in  all  the  yadoyas  in  Obama  to  feed  ten  men.  We 
were  compelled  to  await  the  return  of  our  servants  from 
Ishihaya  this  morning  before  we  could  breakfast.  Ye 
gods  ! How  those  that  had  been  prisoners  ate  ! Gover- 
nor Oda’s  dungeon,  forsooth,  had  not  been  a palace  of 
feasting  to  them  ! And  as  soon  as  the  barbarian  priest 
had  finished  his  own  meal  he  mounted  his  horse,  and, 
riding  up  and  down  the  street,  shouted  to  his  followers 
to  eat,  drink  and  be  merry,  for  it  was  the  idolators  that 
banqueted  them.” 


* Inns. 


232  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ Devil  or  no  devil,”  cried  the  stranger  ; “ that  priest 
knows  no  fear.  No  one  but  a brave  man  would  have  ven- 
tured his  life  as  did  he  at  Nagasaki  the  other  night,  with 
such  a price  set  upon  his  head.” 

The  others  made  no  reply.  The  name  of  Paoli  had 
become  ananthema  throughout  the  nation,  and  men  were 
careful  not  to  speak  of  him  except  in  terms  of  the  bitter- 
est execration.  Just  then  a traveller,  dressed  in  the  garb 
of  a well-to-do  tradesman,  stopped  before  the  door.  The 
host  and  a troop  of  serving  girls  rushed  to  the  street, 
uniting  their  voices  in  a noisy  chorus  of  invitation  for 
the  stranger  to  enter  their yadoya  and  to  partake  of  their 
hospitality. 

The  new-comer  was  Yamada,  the  Ronin,  who  had  as- 
sumed this  disguise  for  purposes  we  shall  permit  himself, 
a little  later  on,  to  disclose.  He  was  on  the  point  of  en- 
tering the  inn,  when  a betto,  wearing  the  livery  of  some 
nobleman,  dashed  up. 

“ Is  the  landlord  of  the  Kwassui-ya  present  ?”  he  de- 
manded, gazing  from  one  to  another  of  the  group 
before  him. 

“ Hai , hait*  I am  he,”  responded  the  host,  coming  for- 
ward with  a low  bow. 

“ My  Lord  Nabeshima,  Prince  of  Kai,  is  on  his  way 
hither,”  the  betto , said.  “ He  would  rest  for  a time  at  the 
Kwassui-ya;  prepare  him  room  and  bath.” 

At  the  mention  of  the  name  of  Nabeshima,  the  land- 
lord prostrated  himself  on  the  floor  before  the  messenger. 

“ His  worshipful  highness  confers  a most  distinguished 
honor  upon  me  in  gracing  my  wretched  house  with  his 
presence.  Convey  my  humblest  thanks  to  your  noble 
lord,  and  assure  him  that  room,  bath  and  refreshments 
shall  await  his  pleasure.  Is  your  master  alone  ?” 

* Yes,  yes. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  233 


“ Ah,  I forgot.  No  ; a foreigner  is  with  him,” 

“ Eh  ? a barbarian  !”  cried  the  host,  aghast.  “ A pris- 
oner, of  course  ?” 

“ Not  so  ! I warn  thee,  host,  that  thou  be  careful  to 
show  the  foreigner  all  attention,  if  you  would  escape  the 
wrath  of  the  prince.  Lord  Nabeshima,  and  the  English- 
man are  as  brothers,  and  woe  to  him  that  shows  dis- 
respect to  a friend  of  the  Prince  of  Kai !” 

“ Ah,  ah,  pardon  ! I beseech  you  not  to  mention  my 
foolish  speech  to  your  most  excellent  master,”  the  fright- 
ened landlord  implored,  again  bowing  profoundly.  “ It’s 
unusual  to  hear  of  a Japanese  prince  travelling  with  a 
foreigner,  or  making  one  his  friend.” 

“Yet  Iyeyasu  loved  an  Englishman,”  remarked  one  of 
the  guests. 

“So,  so,  true,  he  did,”  the  flustered  landlord  assented, 
eager  to  put  himself  right  before  Lord  Nabeshima’s 
servant  ; but  the  betto  had  disappeared  down  the  street 
whence  he  had  come.  Having  given  orders  to  the  servants 
to  make  ready  to  receive  the  prince,  the  host  bethought 
himself  of  the  traveller,  who,  a minute  before,  had  stopped 
at  his  door.  But  Yamada  was  gone. 


VIII. 

OLD  FOES  IN  NEW  SURROUNDINGS. 

Hearing  the  betto' s announcement  that  Nabeshima  and 
a foreigner  were  at  hand,  the  Ronin  at  once  knew  that 
the  latter  could  be  none  other  than  the  Englishman  who 
had  worsted  him  in  their  encounter  before  the  Suwa 
temple,  and  whose  destruction  he  had  twice  plotted, 
only  to  have  his  plans  each  time  defeated.  Fearing, 


234  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


moreover,  that  Beaumont  would  recognize  him,  even 
though  disguised,  he  concluded  that  the  Kwassui-ya  was 
not  the  place  for  him  to  remain.  Therefore,  it  happened 
that,  while  the  host  was  engaged  in  conversation  with  the 
betto,  the  Ronin  crossed  the  street  to  another  y a doy  a directly 
opposite.  Entering  this  he  called  for  a room  that  might 
command  a view  of  the  inn  he  had  just  left.  Here  he 
seated  himself  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  prince’s  party. 
The  adjoining  apartment  was  full  of  guests,  and  amid  the 
loud  bursts  of  drunken  revelry,  that  reached  his  ears,  he 
thought  he  recognized  some  of  the  voices.  Pushing  the 
sliding  doors  slightly  apart,  he  peered  in  ; and,  sure 
enough,  there  were  Gonroku,  the  robber-chief,  and  Gohei, 
with  about  a score  of  others,  as  desperate-looking  charac- 
ters as  themselves.  Yamada  had  made  the  acquaintance 
of  Gonroku’s  gang  in  Nagasaki,  and  he  knew  a number 
of  those  present.  Pushing  the  door  open,  he  entered  the 
room,  and,  as  soon  as  he  was  recognized,  an  uproarious 
welcome  greeted  him. 

“ Ha  ! It  is  Yamada,  the  Ronin  of  Ishihaya  !”  the  half- 
intoxicated  Gonroku  cried,  the  fellow’s  brutal  features 
now  still  more  repulsive  from  the  effects  of  drink.  “ And 
so  you,  too,  escaped  the  swords  of  the  Christians  and  the 
ax  of  the  priest,  eh  ? Come,^,*  sab e,f  sake  for  the  friend 
of  Gonroku  !”and  the  outlaw’s  arm  encircled  the  waiting- 
maid’s  waist  in  a drunken  caress. 

“ Yes,  I escaped,  thanks  to  a pair  of  nimble  legs,"  Yam- 
ada replied  to  Gonroku’s  question.  “We  attacked  the 
Dutch  captain  and  his  companions  on  their  way  to  the 
bay,  but  Kanshin  and  five  or  six  more  were  killed.  I 
could  do  nothing,”  and  here  the  Ronin  held  up  his  dis- 
abled hand,  “and  I relished  not  the  idea  of  remaining 

* Female  servant.  t An  intoxicating  drink  prepared  from  rice. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


235 


there  and  running  my  chances  of  being  cut  down  by  the 
dogs.  But  how  fared  it  with  your  band  ?” 

The  outlaw-chief  endeavored  to  look  sorrowful,  and 
his  voice  took  on  a maudlin  whine. 

“Ah!  ah!  Alas!  Nigh  a hundred  of  my  brave  fel- 
lows I left  on  Higashi-yama,  and  half  as  many  more  fell 
at  the  foreign  ship.  Ah,  Yamada,  shamefully  did  our 
gods  betray  us  into  the  hands  of  the  Christians  and  the 
barbarians.” 

“ Heed  it  not,”  called  out  the  voice  of  Gohei  ; “ heed 
it  not,  say  I.  The  less  the  number,  the  greater  the  share 
of  the  spoils  we  are  yet  to  win.  But  ho,  Yamada,  what 
thinkest  thou?  Our  sweet  and  gentle  Gonroku  is  no 
sooner  out  of  prison  than  he  falls  a captive  once  more, 
and  is  now  on  his  way  to  surrender.” 

A coarse  laugh  from  all  present  followed  Gohei’s 
words.  The  Ronin  looked  perplexed  ; he  failed  to  per- 
ceive the  point  of  the  fellow’s  sally,  and  said  as  much. 

“Thou  art  slow  of  mind,  friend,  or  else  thou  knowest 
not  Gonroku’s  impressionable  nature.  Dullard,  our 
tender-hearted  chief  is  in  love.” 

“Ah,  about  to  take  a wife,  is  he  ?”  inquired  the  Ronin , 
glancing  at  the  robber,  who  answered  his  look  with  a 
hideous  smile. 

“ Nay,  scarcely  a wife  ; yet  call  her  what  you  will,  the 
gentle  Gonroku  careth  not  ! She’ll  serve  a month  or  so 
until  he  tires  of  her.  Gonroku,  sad  to  say,  is  as  fickle  as 
he  is  susceptible.  His  love  waxes  and  wanes  with  the 
moon  ; new  moon,  new  maid  !” 

Gohei's  speech  was  greeted  by  another  roar  of  drunken 
revelry,  in  which  Yamada  joined  lustily  as  any.  Less 
brutal  than  the  debased  wretches  about  him,  the  Ronin  s 
feelings  respecting  women,  nevertheless,  like  those  of  his 
countrymen  in  general,  felt  not  at  all  outraged  at  Gohei’s 


236  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


horrible  jests.  Another  of  the  company  here  bawled 
out : 

“ Yes  ; and,  by  the  gods,  the  people  are  getting  tired  of 
his  inconstancy  ! When  a pretty  maid  suddenly  dis- 
appears from  some  farmer’s  hut,  and  then  as  mysteriously 
returns,  rather  the  worse  for  her  month’s  sojourn  among 
the  mountains,  a howl  is  raised  along  the  whole  country- 
side.” 

“ This  time,  however,  ” rejoined  Gohei,  “ we  shall  be 
spared  the  inconvenience  of  having  the  officials  dogging 
our  footsteps  in  quest  of  the  missing  damsel.  For  once, 
Gonroku  is  considerate  enough  to  cleave  to  a friendless 
maiden,  and  yet  she  is  a nobleman's  daughter  with  a dash 
of  barbarian  blood  in  her  veins,  withal.” 

“Gods!”  exclaimed  Yamada,  with  a laugh.  “Your 
description  fits  but  one  woman  in  all  Japan!  You  must  have 
in  mind  the  beautiful  daughter  of  Lord  Mori  of  Unzen!” 

“ Kekko,  shrewd  fellow  ! Thou  hast  guessed  aright,” 
broke  in  the  outlaw-chief,  with  a horrible  leer.  “ Una 
they  call  her ; barbarous  name,  yet  a dainty  piece  of 
flesh,  methinks.  To-night  we  go  thither.  They  call  me 
inconstant,  do  they?  Ho,  ho,  ho  ! ’’and  Gonroku  roared 
with  mirth.  “By  the  hand  of  Buddha,  comrades,  I’ll  re- 
form forthwith.  Lord  Mori’s  daughter  shall  not  go  home 
short  of  three  months.  Eh,  comrades,  call  ye  that  incon- 
stant ? ” 

Another  burst  of  laughter,  with  shouts  of  “No,  no, 
kekko , Gonroku,  kekko!"  followed  that  worthy’s  speech. 

“Will  you  join  us,  Yamada?”  inquired  Gohei. 

“ On  one  condition,”  the  Ronin  answered. 

“ Name  it,”  exclaimed  the  chief. 

Yamada  informed  the  outlaws  of  what  he  had  just 
heard  at  the  Kwassui-ya. 

“I  shall  join  you,”  he  added,  “on  condition  that  you 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  237 

help  me  to  avenge  myself  on  that  accursed  Englishman. 
I have  other  and  more  important  work  on  hand,  and  I 
wish  my  affair  with  him  out  of  the  way  that  I may  attend 
to  it.” 

“A  bargain!  We  shall  help  you,”  Gonroku  cried, 
clapping  his  hands  together,  thus  signifying  that  the 
agreement  was  made.  “ But  this  other  work,  friend, 
what  is  it  ? We  may  serve  you  a good  turn  there,  also.” 

The  Ronin  cast  an  apprehensive  glance  toward  the 
gej°. 

“Nay,  nay,  Yamada,  don’t  fear  the  girl,”  the  outlaw 
said,  assuringly.  “ She  is  Gohei's  sister,  and  she  is  our 
good  right  hand  in  Obama.  All  in  this yadoya  are  friends  ; 
we  would  not  be  speaking  so  freely  were  it  otherwise.” 

“ Paoli,  the  barbarian  priest,  has  escaped  to  Arima.  I 
have  sworn  to  get  the  reward  set  upon  his  capture,  dead 
or  alive,  and  thus  to  avenge  my  Lord  Kaneko’s  death.” 

“ Dangerous  venture,  that,”  Gonroku  observed  doubt- 
fully. “You  will  have  to  go  into  the  very  midst  of  the 
Christians.” 

“I  shall  pretend  to  be  one  of  the  persecuted  sect,  flee- 
ing from  danger  that  threatened  my  life.  As  a supposed 
fellow-Christian  they  will  receive  me.  I am  no  longer 
Yamada  the  Ronin , but  Kuroda,  a trader  of  Ishihaya, 
who  for  his  adherence  to  the  teachings  of  the  priests,  has 
had  to  fly  to  his  brethren  at  Arima.  Eh  ! how  sounds 
the  tale,  my  merry  comrades  ?” 

The  outlaw  was  still  fearful. 

“ I tell  you,  Yamada,  you’ll  have  to  face  that  devil, 
Paoli  the  priest  ; and  if  he  does  not  see  through  your 
pretentions,  it  will  be  the  first  time  he  has  been  de- 
ceived.” 

“You  asked  a minute  ago  if  you  could  help  me,”  said 
the  Ronin , not  replying  to  Gonroku’s  objection.  “I 


238  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


think  you  can,  but  in  what  way  I do  not  yet  fully  know. 
In  the  meantime,  Gonroku,  that  Englishman — ” 

“Leave  that  to  us  whose  trade  is  blood,”  the  other 
said  grimly.  The  prospect  of  work  ahead  had  exerted  a 
sobering  effect  upon  the  entire  gang.  Gonroku  con- 
tinued : “In  a short  time  Nabeshima  and  the  foreigner 
will  be  here.  They  will  stop  at  the  Kwassui-ya,  for  baths 
and  refreshments,  and  then  resume  their  journey  over 
the  mountains.  We  must  leave  the  village  before  they 
enter  it.  Up,  comrades  ; rare,  red  sport  ahead  !” 

The  outlaws  now  arose,  and  descending  into  the  back 
yard  of  the  yadoya,  passed  through  a narrow  alley  that 
joined  the  main  road  at  the  foot  of  the  hills.  In  a few 
minutes  they  were  toiling  up  the  steep  mountain  pass. 
The  shouting  of  men  below  caused  them  to  look  down  on 
the  village  they  had  just  left.  A party  of  mounted  war- 
riors had  halted  before  the  Kwassui-ya. 

“ Lord  Nabeshima  and  his  train  !”  exclaimed  the  Ronin, 
and  his  face  darkened  with  ferocious  hatred  as  he  per- 
ceived the  tall  form  of  the  young  Englishman  at  the 
prince’s  side.  “ Gonroku,”  he  cried,  savagely,  “ that 
accursed  barbarian  must  die  !” 

“Ha,  ha  !”  roared  the  outlaw.  “By  the  gods,  Yama- 
da,  thou  lookest  as  if  thou  couldst  devour  the  fellow 
alive!  Nay,  fear  not!  Ahead  of  us  the  road  passes 
through  a deep  ravine,  and  there,  from  the  shelter  of  the 
rocks  above  the  highway,  we  shall  fill  your  foreigner  as 
full  of  arrows  as  thy  revenge  can  wish.  Ho,  men,  step 
up  lively  ! On  to  the  ravine  ! The  Englishman  this 
afternoon  ; and  Una  of  Unzen  to-night  !” 

With  uproarious  mirth  the  outlaws  hastened  on  their 
way.  After  an  hour’s  sharp  walking,  they  came  to  a foot- 
path that  diverged  from  the  main  road  and  led  up  over 
the  mountain.  It  was  a short  cut  across  some  rugged 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  239 


heights  to  their  left,  and  joined  the  road  on  the  other 
side.  Gonroku’s  parly  turned  into  this  path,  and  in  a 
short  time  had  reached  the  crest  of  the  ridge  To  their 
right  a sharp-pointed  peak  towered  a hundred  feet  or 
more  above  them,  and  descending  this  with  a light, 
springing  step  came  the  figure  of  a young  girl.  It  was 
Una  the  Eurasian.  Gonroku  saw  and  recognized  her. 

“ Ho,  comrades,  in  luck  !”  he  roared.  “ We’ve  bagged 
half  our  game  ! It  will  be  both  man  and  maid  before 
nightfall.” 

Fortunately,  Una  caught  sight  of  her  foes  while  they 
were  still  at  some  little  distance  from  her,  and  their  sav- 
age appearance  warned  her  of  danger.  For  a moment 
the  girl  stood  regarding  the  outlaws  with  a terrified  look, 
and  then,  as  she  heard  the  words  of  Gonroku.  she  turned, 
and,  with  a loud,  piercing  scream  of  fear,  darted  off 
around  the  mountain. 


BOOK  SEVENTH. 


FRIENDS  AND  FOES  STRANGELY  MEET. 


AN  INCIDENT  BY  THE  WAY. 


AD  Una  Mori  looked 
down  on  the  Obama  high- 
way a little  earlier  than 


FOB  A MOMENT  THE  GIRL  STOOD  REGARDING  THE  OUTLAWS  WIT 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  243 


she  did,  she  would  not  have  reported  to  the  hunchback 
that  the  prince's  party  was  not  yet  in  sight.  While  she 
was  gazing  down  upon  the  government  troops  marshal- 
ing on  the  eastern  foot-hills,  Nabeshima  and  Beaumont, 
with  some  score  of  the  former's  retainers — all  that  had 
come  out  of  the  battle  on  Higashi-yama  alive — were 
galloping  over  the  stretch  of  road  visible  from  the  point 
where  she  stood  ; but  when  she  turned  her  attention  that 
way.  they  had  just  dashed  under  the  cover  of  a small 
grove  of  camphor-trees  that  concealed  the  road,  where  it 
wound  around  the  side  of  a hill,  not  far  distant  from  the 
base  of  the  mountain  upon  which  she  and  Ando  were 
then  standing. 

The  cavalcade  soon  emerged  from  the  shade  of  the 
camphor-grove,  and  while  they  were  walking  their  horses 
up  a steep  ascent,  two  of  the  bettos  in  advance  of  the 
party  were  seen  at  the  top  of  the  hill  dragging  a youth 
out  of  a thicket  by  the  wayside,  and  seeking  to  hasten 
his  speed  by  the  administration  of  not  a few  cuffs  and 
kicks. 

“Who  have  you  there,  fellows?”  said  the  prince,  riding 
up  to  the  place  where  the  struggle  was  going  on.  “Un- 
hand that  boy  instantly,  you  rascals  !”  he  shouted  angrily, 
as  he  caught  a glimpse  of  the  terrified  face  of  the  youth, 
who,  indeed,  was  none  other  than  Sanji,  whom,  it  will  be 
remembered,  Una  had  dispatched  to  Obama  on  an  errand. 

“ Please  you,  most  excellent  master,”  whined  one  of 
the  bettos , as  both  fell  upon  their  knees  before  the  prince, 
“ we  caught  this  fellow  hiding  himself  away  among  the 
brush,  and  we  thought  that  perhaps  he  might  be  a 
Christian  and  the  bearer  of  important  dispatches.  Thy 
pardon,  most  august  master,  if  we  have  offended,”  and 
the  two  prostrated  themselves  until  their  foreheads 
touched  the  earth. 


244  Pcioli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


‘‘Seizing  suspicious-looking  persons  is  to  be  com- 
mended/’ their  lord  replied  ; “but  needless  violence 
such  as  I saw  you  employ  with  this  youth,  is  cruel,  and 
shall  be  punished.  I forgive  your  present  offense  ; see 
to  it  that  you  err  not  again  !” 

With  profound  bows,  the  bettos  slunk  away,  glad  to 
escape  so  easily.  Nabeshima  turned  to  Sanji,  who  had 
recovered  somewhat  from  his  fright,  and  who,  as  soon  as 
he  perceived  the  prince  looking  at  him,  dropped  upon 
his  knees. 

“Well,  lad,’’  said  Lord  Nabeshima,  addressing  him, 
“ what  haveyou  to  say  for  yourself?” 

“Great  Lord,  your  servant’s  name  is  Sanji.  He  lives 
among  these  mountains,  and  is  now  on  his  way  to 
Obama.” 

“Sanji,  art  thou  a Christian  ?” 

“ Will  the  great  Lord  lay  a cross  before  me  that  I may 
trample  upon  it  ?” 

“Well  said  ! But  we  do  not  carry  crosses  about  the 
country,  Sanji,  to  try  old  women  and  boys,”  Nabeshima 
returned,  with  a laugh.  “ I perceive  by  thy  clothing  that 
thou  art  some  man’s  servant.  Thy  master’s  name — what 
is  it,  boy  ?” 

“ My  master,  excellent  sir,  is  naught  but  a poor  old 
man  that  dwells  up  among  these  hills.” 

“ His  name  ?” 

Sanji  was  silent. 

“Dost  thou  not  hear  me.  fellow?”  cried  Nabeshima, 
sharply. 

Sanji  prostrated  himself  upon  the  earth,  but  remained 
dumb. 

“Boy,  stand  up.” 

Sanji  sprang  to  his  feet. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  245 


“ Now  lad,  I shall  ask  thee  once  more  : what  is  thy  mas- 
ter’s name  ?” 

At  a sign  from  the  prince,  a score  of  swords  flashed 
from  their  scabbards  and  the  retainers  formed  a ring 
around  the  boy.  Sanji’s  eyes  swept  the  circle  of  mounted 
warriors,  and  his  young  heart  swelled  with  indignation. 
Fear  and  courtesy  were  alike  forgotten.  His  little  figure, 
quivering  with  rage,  was  drawn  up  to  its  full  height,  and 
with  head  thrown  back,  he  turned  a scornful  look  on  the 
prince. 

“ Thou  thinkest,  great  sir,  that  twenty  naked  swords 
can  frighten  one  defenseless  boy  into  betraying  to  thee 
the  name  of  his  master?  Thou  art  mistaken.” 

Nabeshima  turned  away  his  head  to  conceal  the  look 
of  mingled  merriment  and  admiration  that  passed  over 
his  face.  In  a moment  he  had  controlled  himself  suffi- 
ciently to  demand,  with  as  great  a show  of  anger  as  he 
could  muster  : 

“Impudent  boor  ! dost  thou  know  to  whom  it  is  that 
thou  art  speaking  ?” 

“ I am  not  a boor,  your  highness,”  retorted  Sanji,  his 
face  flushing  at  the  insult.  “ I am  a Samurai,  and  the 
son  of  a Samurai  of  renown.  I know  not  thy  name,  great 
lord,  and,”  he  added,  with  a defiant  flash  in  his  eyes, 
“ thou  knowest  not  the  name  of  my  master.” 

“I  am  the  Prince  of  Kai.” 

Instantly  Sanji  again  prostrated  himself  before  the  feet 
of  Nabeshima’s  horse. 

“ Great  sir,  my  master  is  thy  cousin,  Lord  Mori  of 
Unzen.  May  it  please  thy  highness  to  forgive  thy  ser- 
vant’s rudeness.  My  master  has  told  me  not  to  give  his 
name  to  any—” 

“ Noble  youth,”  cried  the  prince,  interrupting  him, 
“arise  ! It  is  needless  for  thee  to  say  more.  It  is  I who 


246  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


should  ask  forgiveness.  The  fidelity  of  a vassal  to  his 
lord  can  go  no  further  than  it  has  in  thee.” 

The  boy  had  arisen  to  his  feet,  and  was  now  standing 
with  bowed  head,  and  hands  crossed  upon  his  breast. 
The  prince  again  addressed  him  : 

“ And  now,  my  lad,  you  perhaps  know  that  we  are  on 
our  way  to  your  master’s  house.  Be  so  kind,  I pray  you, 
to  tell  my  bettos  the  quickest  and  easiest  route  thither.” 
With  a low  bow,  Sanji  went  forward  to  the  two  men, 
who  but  a few  minutes  before  had  dragged  him  with 
kicks  and  blows  out  of  the  thicket,  but  who  now  received 
the  information  he  gave  them  on  their  bended  knees. 

“ A noble  lad,  that,”  Nabeshima  said  to  the  Englishman, 
who  had  been  a deeply  interested  spectator  of  all  that  had 
passed,  though  understanding  nothing  of  what  had  been 
said  ; and  the  prince  proceeded  to  inform  him  of  the  con- 
versation between  himself  and  Sanji. 


II. 

FORTUNE  FAVORS  YAMADA  THE  RONIN. 

While  Nabeshima  was  still  speaking,  a woman’s  scream, 
from  the  heights  above  them,  fell  upon  their  ears,  and  was 
followed  by  another  and  another  in  quick  succession.  It 
was  Una,  who,  in  her  flight  from  Gonroku  and  his  fol- 
lowers, had  run  wildly  on  around  the  mountain,  not 
knowing  whither  her  course  was  leading  her.  She  could 
hear  the  heavy  tread  of  her  pursuers  and  their  deep  breath- 
ing close  behind.  She  turned  a sharp  corner  of  the  rocky 
bluffs,  and  the  Obama  highway  burst  into  view.  She 
saw  the  group  of  horsemen  below,  and  instantly  she 
divined  who  they  were.  While  she  sped  on,  her  piercing 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  247 


screams  drew  the  attention  of  the  warriors,  and  in  the 
circle  of  upturned  faces,  she  recognized  one  that  was  the 
original  of  the  portrait  that  she  had  in  her  bosom.  She 
stretched  out  her  hands  to  him,  and  cried  in  English  : 
“Help  ! Help  ! Save  me  ! O save  me  !” 

The  horsemen,  mountains,  valley  and  pursuers  reeled 
in  her  eyes  ; she  felt  herself  plunging  forward.  Another 
shriek  pealed  from  her  lips,  and  she  knew  no  more. 

“Merciful  God!”  exclaimed  Beaumont,  as  Una’s  cry 
for  help  reached  them.  “ She  is  an  Englishwoman  !” 
“Dismount,  men,  and  up  these  rocks  to  the  rescue  !” 
cried  Nabeshima  to  his  retainers. 

But  the  Englishman  was  already  off  his  horse  and 
dashing  up  the  steep  mountain-side,  the  boy  Sanji  at  his 
heels.  Gonroku  had  been  close  upon  the  fleeing  girl  as 
she  sank  insensible  upon  the  rocks.  Raising  her  in  his 
arms  he  shouted  to  his  comrades  to  follow  him,  and  the 
whole  gang  sped  off  around  the  mountain.  They  also 
had  perceived  the  prince’s  party  ; but,  with  the  start  they 
had,  they  were  confident  of  escape.  The  course  they  had 
taken  was  over  a ledge  of  rocks  that  jutted  out  like  a 
terrace  along  the  face  of  the  mountain,  which  at  this 
point  fell  off  in  a precipice  hundreds  of  feet  in  depth  upon 
one  side,  and  towered  up  an  almost  perpendicular  wall  of 
rock  on  the  other. 

“ Comrades,  who  knows  where  this  accursed  ledge  is 
leading  us?  By  the  gods,  I like  it  not!”  exclaimed  the 
robber-chief,  as  they  sped  forward  with  the  Englishman, 
who  had  just  gained  the  summit,  in  swift  pursuit.  Na- 
beshima and  his  warriors,  encumbered  by  their  heavy 
armor,  were  struggling  on  at  some  distance  behind. 

A savage  yell  of  rage  from  the  outlaws  caused  Beau- 
mont to  pause  for  an  instant.  He  perceived  that  their 
advance  had  been  checked  by  a high  cliff  that  formed  the 


2 48  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


termination  of  the  ledge.  They  had  run  into  a trap,  and 
now,  gathered  in  a little  group,  they  were  taking  counsel 
together. 

“ Down  with  that  girl,  Gonroku  !”  cried  Gohei.  “ We 
can  get  her  another  time.  Unencumbered  with  her,  we 
can  scale  the  rocks  ahead,  and  make  our  escape.” 

With  curses,  loud  and  deep,  the  chieftain  dropped  Una 
on  the  rocks,  and,  with  his  followers,  began  climbing  the 
side  of  the  sloping  cliff  before  them.  Yamada  alone  re- 
mained. Darting  behind  a huge  bowlder,  he  awaited 
the  Englishman’s  approach.  In  a short  time,  Beau- 
mont dashed  up,  still  far  in  advance  of  the  others.  Per- 
ceiving at  once  that  the  outlaws  were  beyond  reach  of  his 
sword,  he  stooped  over  the  still  unconscious  maiden  to 
lift  her  up.  As  he  did  so,  the  Ronin , with  a tiger-like 
spring  from  his  hiding-place,  dashed  himself  against  the 
Englishman.  There  was  a shout  of  startled  surprise,  a 
momentary  struggle  on  the  brink  of  the  awful  abyss,  and 
the  form  of  Beaumont  disappeared  over  the  precipice. 

“ Kekko,  kekko,  comrade!”  roared  Gonroku,  who  had 
witnessed  the  deed  from  the  rocks  above.  “ Lively, 
friend;  thy  hand  ! So,  so  ; here  you  are!”  as  he  assisted 
the  Ronin  up  the  steep  face  of  the  cliff  to  a little  plateau. 
Now  we  are  safe,  and  thou  hast  had  thy  revenge,  though 
I did  lose  my  bird.  May  the  gods  prosper  your  plot 
against  the  barbarian  priest,  and  my  further  wooing  of 
the  fair  maid  of  Unzen  ?” 


III. 

BACK  TO  LIFE. 

A momentary  glimpse  of  his  foe  ; an  effort,  as  he  hung 
over  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  to  save  himself ; then  the  sense 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  249 


of  falling  down,  down  ; the  awful  shock  of  being  dashed 
against  some  opposing  object ; a roar  in  his  ears,  a flash 
of  fire  before  his  eyes  ; then  silence  and  darkness.  Such 
were  Marmion  Beaumont’s  sensations  when  he  felt  him- 
self hurled  off  the  edge  of  the  rocks,  as  he  bent  over  the 
prostrate  form  of  the  unconscious  Una,  whom  Gonroku 
had  dropped  perilously  near  the  brink  of  the  precipice. 
Though  stunned  by  his  fall,  the  Englishman  was  not  ren- 
dered entirely  insensible.  He  was  powerless  to  move  his 
body,  yet  his  mind  was  active.  He  had  a sensation  of 
extreme  cold,  and  of  excruciating  pains  in  his  right  arm 
and  leg.  He  was  dimly  conscious  of  the  sound  of  voices 
far  above  him.  Then,  after  a time,  he  felt  himself  lifted 
up.  The  voices  seemed  to  beat  his  side,  and  he  felt  the 
touch  of  gentle  hands.  Then  followed  the  sensation  of 
being  borne  somewhere  on  a litter  supported  on  men’s 
shoulders.  He  could  hear  the  breathing  of  his  bearers, 
and  the  trampling  of  horses’  feet  behind  him.  The 
rythmical  motion  of  his  carriage,  as  it  rose  and  fell  and 
swayed  from  side  to  side  with  the  echoless  tread  of  the 
bearers,  soothed  him  into  restfulness,  and  he  slept.  But 
his  sleep  soon  lapsed  into  unconsciousness. 

After  a long  interval,  he  again  recovered 

“ See,  dear  father,  he  revives  ! He  will  get  well  again, 
will  he  not  ? ” said  a low,  sweet  voice  at  his  side. 

“ Ay,  child,  the  young  man  is  strong  ; do  not  fear  for 
him,  he  will  recover,”  said  the  deeper  voice  of  a man. 
“Una,”  the  speaker  continued,  “do  thou,  my  daughter, 
go  into  the  outer  apartment  and  tell  thy  cousin  that  his 
friend  is  reviving.  And  remain  there  thyself,  dear  child; 
it  is  not  seemly  that  thou  shouldst  be  here  when  the 
stranger  awakes.  ” 

Beaumont  heard  the  rustle  of  the  girl’s  garments  as 


250  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


she  left  the  room.  He  now  tried  to  move,  but  his  limbs 
felt  stiff  and  of  the  weight  of  lead. 

“ Nay,  friend,  move  not,  I pray  thee  ! Thy  right  arm 
and  leg  are  broken  and  thy  whole  body  is  sorely  bruised,” 
said  the  same  voice  that  had  just  been  speaking  to  the  girl. 
The  young  Englishman  opened  his  eyes  to  see  the  face 
of  Lord  Mori  bending  over  him. 

“ Where  am  I ?”  he  asked  in  a whisper. 

“ Among  friends,  Master  Beaumont,  and  at  the  house 
whither  you  were  going  when  you  so  bravely  rescued  my 
child.” 

“Thank  God,  she  was  saved  ! ” Beaumont  exclaimed, 
faintly  ; and  then,  fixing  his  eyes  on  his  attendant,  he 
said,  with  a wan  smile  : “ Then  thou  art  Lord  Mori  of 

Unzen,  I take  it,  and  the  maiden  whom  those  villains 
were  bearing  off  is  thy  daughter.  ” 

“ Thou  speakest  truly  ; my  child  has  just  left  the  room.” 

Beaumont  turned  his  head  and  cast  a glance  about 
upon  his  surroundings.  He  was  lying  on  a bed  in  the 
scholar’s  cave-study.  A number  of  lamps,  suspended  from 
the  roof  of  the  cavern,  shed  a soft  light  throughout  the 
apartment.  A few  paintings — the  work  of  the  little 
hunchback — hung  from  the  walls.  A student’s  table  oc- 
cupied the  center  of  the  room.  In  one  corner  stood  a 
small  book-case,  and  in  another  was  the  huge  pile  of 
manuscript  Bibles.  From  the  cursory  glance  at  his  sur- 
roundings, the  Englishman’s  eyes  turned  to  rest  again 
upon  the  gentle  face  of  the  old  man. 

“ How  long  have  I been  here  ?”  he  inquired. 

“ They  brought  you  here  about  sunset ; it  is  now  nearly 
midnight.” 

As  Lord  Mori  was  speaking,  Beaumont  saw  the  sliding 
doors  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  open,  and  the  Prince 
of  Kai  enter  the  apartment.  Coming  to  the  side  of  the 


Pauli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


25> 


wuunded  man,  Nabeshima  laid  his  hand  on  the  sufferer’s 
brow,  saying  softly  : 

“It  is  like  beholding  the  sun  after  the  niu-bai*  to  look 
upon  the  light  of  thine  eyes  again,  Master  Beaumont. 
Ah,  it  was  a terrible  fall  thou  hadst,  but  a far  more  terri- 
ble one  didst  thou  narrowly  escape  ! ” 

“ I dimly  remember  someone  dashing  himself  against 
me  and  hurling  me  over  the  cliff.  ” 

“It  was  that  accursed  Ronin,  Yamada.” 

“And  I was  saved  from  death,”  said  Beaumont,  feebly. 
“ But  how,  or  by  whom  ?” 

“Speak  no  more,  friend,  I pray  you.  You  are  weak, 
and  the  effort  may  do  you  harm.  I shall  tell  you  the 
story.  When  the  Ronin  pushed  you  off  the  ledge  of  rocks 
along  which  you  were  pursuing  my  cousin’s  captors,  I 
was  still  a considerable  distance  behind  you  and  but  a 
little  in  advance  of  my  own  men.  I hurried  up  to  the 
place  ; but  the  cowardly  would-be  assassin,  by  the  assist- 
ance of  his  comrades,  was  already  far  up  the  cliff  beyond 
my  reach.  I at  once  peered  over  the  brink  of  the  preci- 
pice, and  my  heart  leaped  into  my  throat  at  the  sight. 
About  twenty-five  feet  below  where  I stood,  I beheld  a 
dwarfish  mountain  pine  projecting  almost  horizontally 
from  a cleft  in  the  perpendicular  face  of  the  rocks.  You 
had  fallen  into  the  top  of  this  tree,  and  were  lying  firmly 
lodged  among  its  gnarled  and  twisted  branches.  More 
than  three  hundred  feet  below  you,  was  a grove  of  large 
camphor-trees,  that  appeared  from  the  summit  nothing 
more  than  a thicket  of  shrubs.  Into  this  you  would  have 
fallen  had  not  the  pine-tree  caught  you  in  its  boughs. 
By  means  of  a rope,  one  of  the  men  descended  and 
brought  you  up  safely  to  the  top.  A rude  litter  was  has- 

* The  rainy  season,  occurring  in  June,  during  which  for  days  to- 
gether the  sun  is  hidden  by  heavy  clouds. 


252  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


tily  constructed,  and  on  that  the  bettos  bore  you  to  this 
place.  We  found  both  your  right  arm  and  leg  to  be 
broken,  and  your  body  otherwise  bruised  and  wounded. 
The  broken  bones  have  been  set,  and  all  it  requires  now 
is  rest  and  patient  waiting  to  effect  a cure.” 

The  Englishman  turned  his  face  to  the  wall  with  a 
heavy  sigh. 

“ It  will  be  weeks  before  I am  myself  again.  And  yet,” 
he  added,  after  a pause,  “ I ought  to  be  thankful  that  I 
escaped  with  my  life.  By  heaven,  Prince,  if  I ever  again 
meet  that  dastardly  Ronin,  methinks  he  will  not  escape 
with  so  slight  a token  of  the  encounter  as  a disabled 
hand.” 

Lord  Nabeshima  smiled.  “I  trust  that  you  will  be 
forestalled  in  your  vengeance,  Master  Beaumont.  It  is 
more  fitting  that  a Japanese  sword  should  wipe  out  the 
disgrace  with  which  Yamada’s  cowardly  assault  has 
tainted  the  honor  of  the  Samurai  caste.  All  of  my  body- 
guard I at  once  dispatched  in  pursuit  of  the  Ro?iin  and 
his  confederates,  who  I understand  are  none  other  than 
the  notorious  Gonroku  and  a number  of  his  outlaws.  I 
trust  that  before  daylight  we  may  hear  that  they  have 
paid  the  penalty  of  their  crimes.” 


IV. 

UNA  MEETS  HER  HERO. 

While  Beaumont  and  Nabeshima  were  speaking,  Lord 
Mori  had  passed  out  of  the  room,  and  he  now  returned 
accompanied  by  Una.  Timidly  and  with  downcast  face 
the  girl  approached  the  wounded  man. 

“ Master  Beaumont,”  said  the  scholar,  in  his  softly 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  253 


quiet  voice,  “my  daughter  has  come  to  thank  you  for 
rescuing  her  from  such  terrible  peril  to-day.” 

With  a smile,  the  young  Englishman  raised  his  eyes  to 
the  fair  face  of  the  maiden.  “ Nay,  lady,  it  was  little, 
indeed,  that  I did  ! Thy  captors  ran  themselves  into  a 
trap,  and  were  obliged,  perforce,  to  leave  thee.” 

“Gentle  sir,"  Una  replied  earnestly,  fixing  her  calm, 
truthful  eyes  on  Beaumont's  face,  “thou  dost  unduly 
belittle  thine  own  work.  My  cousin,  the  prince,  and  all 
who  were  there  say  it  was  thy  close  pursuit  that  com- 
pelled the  robbers  to  drop  me  on  the  rocks  that  they 
might  make  good  their  own  escape.  Hadst  thou  not 
been  so  near,  they  could  have  carried  me  with  them  up 
the  side  of  the  mountain.  Ah,  good  sir,”  she  continued 
falteringly,  “alas  ! sorely  have  you  suffered — ” 

“ Nay,  fair  maiden,  speak  not  of  that  ! I was  but  doing 
my  duty.” 

The  words  died  away  in  a half  articulate  murmur 
upon  his  lips.  He  had  fallen  into  a semi-unconscious 
slumber. 

“ What  thinkest  thou,  cousin  ?”  Nabeshima  asked 
anxiously,  as  the  two  moved  off  together  to  the  other 
end  of  the  room;  “thou  art  skilled  in  the  science  of 
healing;  will  my  friend  live?” 

“ He  will  if  he  be  patient  and  prudent,”  the  old  man 
returned  slowly.  “ I think  he  has  suffered  no  serious 
internal  injury.  He  is  young  and  strong.” 

“Yes,  and  that  will,  of  course,  be  in  his  favor.  If  I 
can  be  of  assistance  to  thee,  cousin,  do  not  fail  to  com- 
mand me.  I shall  protect  thy  household  until  the  foreign 
ship  arrives  at  Arima.  Then  it  will  be  well  for  you  all 
to  go  aboard  at  once.  And  may  you  find,  cousin,  in  the 
land  of  the  stranger,  the  peace  and  safety  that  can,  it 
seems,  no  longer  be  yours  in  our  Japan  !” 


254  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ It  is  for  Una’s  sake,  cousin  ; it  is  for  Una’s  sake,” 
the  scholar  said  brokenly,  his  eyes  misty  with  tears.  “ It 
is  for  the  sake  of  my  child  that  I go.  Danger  and  death 
in  the  land  of  my  fathers  have  no  terrors  for  me.  A little 
longer,  and  my  life  work  will  be  finished,  and  then  I care 
not  by  what  path  I reach  the  grave.  But,  my  daughter,” 
he  cried,  as  he  perceived  Una,  who  had  stolen  noiselessly 
to  her  father’s  side,  “ the  image  of  her  departed  mother, 
O,  my  child  ! it  is  for  thee,  for  thee,  that  thy  old  father 
makes  himself  an  exile  forever  from  the  sunrise  land  of 
his  birth  !”  And  Lord  Mori  gathered  his  daughter  to 
his  breast  in  a long,  affectionate  embrace. 

“Hark  !”  said  Nabeshima,  “I  thought  I heard  some 
one  calling  before  the  house.” 

“Surely,  it  cannot  be,”  the  scholar  said.  “ The  lights 
are  extinguished  in  the  outer  dwelling,  and  how  could 
any  one  be  drawn  hither  ?” 

“ Perhaps  it  is  my  retainers,  returning  from  the  hunt 
after  the  outlaws,”  the  other  replied,  moving  toward  the 
door.  “I  shall  see.” 

“ I shall  go  with  you,”  said  Una,  taking  a lighted  lamp 
from  her  father’s  table,  and  accompanying  her  cousin. 
“ Occasionally  travellers  lose  their  way  in  passing  over 
the  mountains,  and,  finding  our  path,  they  follow  it  up 
until  they  come  here.  It  may  be  some  such  folk  to-night. 
Who  is  there  ?”  she  called,  as  she  and  Nabeshima  reached 
the  door. 

“ Belated  travellers,  who  have  lost  their  way,”  came 
the  reply,  in  a man’s  voice,  from  without.  “ We  have  a 
sick  woman  here,  and  crave  shelter  for  her  until  the 
morning.” 

“ Never  did  my  father  turn  a deaf  ear  to  such  an  ap- 
peal,” said  Una,  addressing  the  prince.  “Open  the  door, 
I pray  thee,  cousin,  and  let  them  in.” 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


255 


V. 

EXULTATION. 

We  must  now  return  to  Shiro  and  Ine  Tanaka,  who,  it 
will  not  be  forgotten,  were  left  at  Kayaki  upon  the  night 
of  the  rescue.  In  accordance  with  the  Jesuit’s  instruc- 
tions, Shiro  had  assisted  the  women  and  children  in  their 
embarkation  ; and  when  they  had  sailed  away,  and  the 
bishop  and  his  armed  band  had  also  taken  their  depart- 
ure, the  young  man,  in  company  with  Obata,  repaired 
to  the  hut  of  one  of  the  latter’s  servants,  which  was  hid- 
den away  in  a thick  grove  on  the  mountain-side.  Hither 
for  greater  safety,  the  wounded  woman  had  been  borne, 
and  here  she  and  the  two  men  were  to  remain  until  they 
set  out  on  their  overland  journey  to  Arima.  Entering 
the  dimly  lighted  room  where  she  lay,  Shira  and  Obata 
seated  themselves  by  her  couch,  and,  in  anxious,  prayer- 
ful suspense,  the  three  waited.  Neither  of  them  spoke, 
for,  in  the  thrilling  excitement  of  the  hour,  their  hearts 
were  too  full  for  words. 

Then,  as  the  uproar  of  battle  following  Paoli’s  attack 
upon  the  execution  grounds  rolled  wildly  echoing  down 
the  bay,  the  three  silent  listeners  knew  that  the  onslaught 
had  been  made,  and  that  the  fate  of  hundreds  depended 
upon  the  issue  of  the  terrific  conflict  that  was  then  raging 
along  the  sides  of  Higashi-yama.  And  they  could,  indeed, 
only  wait  and  pray  ! It  was  a time  in  which  hearts  beat 
like  drums  and  every  shuddering  breath  seems  to  measure 
an  hour.  The  struggle  at  Oura,  the  rescue  of  the  prison- 
ers, and  the  retreat  over  the  crest  of  the  hill  to  the  Mogi 
road  did  not  occupy  more  than  forty  minutes,  but  to  the 
anxious  watchers  at  Kayaki  it  seemed  to  be  as  many 


256  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missio7iaries. 


hours.  At  last  one  of  the  servants,  that  had  been  de- 
tailed by  Obata  to  stand  on  the  hill  opposite  the  exe- 
cution grounds,  and  to  watch  and  report  the  progress  and 
final  outcome  of  the  attack,  dashed  into  the  house,  breath- 
less from  the  speed  with  which  he  had  come. 

“ The  bishop  and  Ashizuka  are  attacking  the  heathen, 
front  and  rear,”  he  exclaimed,  as  soon  as  he  sufficiently 
recovered  himself  so  that  he  could  speak.  “The  surprise 
was  complete.  A gang  of  outlaws,  it  is  said,  are  assailing 
the  foreign  ship  ; ” and  with  these  words,  the  messenger 
darted  out  of  the  house  and  away  into  the  darkness  again 
on  his  return  to  his  post  of  observation.  At  regular  inter- 
vals, tidings  now  came  in  of  the  progress  of  the  rescue 
and  escape.  Morning  had  come  and  the  sun  was  already 
high  in  the  sky,  when  the  last  messenger  arrived. 

“ I followed  our  friends  in  their  retreat  to  Mogi,”  he 
reported,  “ keeping  myself  concealed  among  the  trees  by 
the  side  of  the  highway.  I saw  them  safely  embarked, 
and,  pushing  off  into  the  bay,  head  their  boats  for  Oba- 
ma.” 

“ And  the  fight  at  the  foreign  ship  ; what  about  that  ?” 
Shiro  asked. 

“The  assailants  were  beaten  off.” 

“ Have  you  heard  of  the  losses  in  the  battle  at  the  exe- 
cution grounds  ?”  inquired  Obata,  anxiously.  “ Did  our 
friends  suffer  severely?” 

“I  returned  by  way  of  Oura,”  replied  the  messenger. 
“The  battle-field  presents  a terrible  spectacle;  yet,  I 
believe  that  not  more  than  a hundred  Christians  were 
killed.  How  many  were  wounded  I do  not  know,  as  our 
friends  carried  these  away  with  them.  But  the  loss  of 
the  government  troops  must  have  been  very  heavy,  as  the 
execution  grounds  are  piled  high  with  the  dead.  Scores 
of  the  citizens,  and  of  the  mob  who  opposed  our  men, 


THE  ENGLISHMAN. — Sefi  Page  248. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  259 


likewise  fell  ; their  bodies  are  thickly  strewn  over  the 
entire  hill-side.” 

So  let  all  Thine  enemies  perish,  O Lord  !”  cried  Shiro 
fervently,  when  the  man  had  finished  his  report. 

But  Ine,  weak  as  she  was,  had  sprung  to  her  feet.  Her 
arms  were  outspread,  her  face  upturned,  and  the  light  of 
triumphant  joy  lit  up  her  countenance  and  flashed  from 
her  large,  lustrous  eyes.  She,  who  but  two  days  before 
had  seen  her  friends  massacred  by  the  brutal  agents  of  a 
merciless  governor,  she,  who  had  stood  on  the  summit  of 
Takaboka  and,  with  anguish  unspeakable,  had  beheld  her 
brother  sink  down  lifeless  by  her  side,  she,  whose  soul 
had  been  pierced  by  the  death-shrieks  of  the  helpless 
women  and  children  whom  the  ruthless  soldiery  had  cast 
off  the  cliffs  into  the  sea,  was  now  untouched  by  pity  for 
the  sudden  destruction  that  had  fallen  upon  these  same 
red-handed  murderers,  and  she  felt  no  thrill  of  horror  as 
she  pictured  to  herself  those  ghastly  heaps  of  slain,  lying 
upon  the  bloody  slopes  of  Higashi-yama.  Nay,  she  exulted 
in  their  destruction  ! In  their  fury,  they  had  cursed  her 
Lord  and  had  insulted  the  sacred  symbol  of  her  faith  ; 
they  had  hardened  their  hearts  against  mercy  and  had 
made  themselves  drunken  with  innocent  blood  ; and  now 
she  rejoiced  to  know  that  upon  many  of  them  had  fallen, 
even  in  the  midst  of  their  orgies  of  torture  and  slaughter, 
a sudden  and  terrible  punishment,  and  that,  on  the  self- 
same grounds,  which  they  had  set  apart  as  the  death-place 
of  others,  lay  their  own  lifeless  bodies,  their  blaspheming 
lips  cold  and  silent,  their  pitiless  hearts  stilled  forever. 

She  looked  beyond  the  human  agencies  that  had 
wrought  this  great  work  of  retributive  justice  to  the 
spiritual  and  unseen.  It  was  God,  the  All-terrible 
Avenger,  who  had  made  bare  His  omnipotent  arm,  and 
had  launched  upon  the  destroyers  of  His  people  the  swift 


260  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


thunderbolts  of  His  wrath.  She  remembered  the  deliver- 
ance which  the  same  Divine  Power  had  of  old  wrought 
for  another  people,  and  from  their  song  of  triumphant 
gladness  there  rose  to  her  lips  the  impassioned  words  of 
praise  : 

“ Thy  right  hand,  O Lord,  is  become  glorious  :~i  power  ; 
Thy  right  hand,  O Lord,  has  dashed  in  pieces  the  enemy. 
And  in  the  greatness  of  Thine  excellency,  Thou  hast 
overthrown  them  that  rose  up  against  Thee.” 


VI. 

HIM  WHOM  WE  WOULD  SHUN  WE  MEET. 

The  day  passed  quietly.  The  government  officials 
were  too  much  exercised  over  the  crushing  defeat  they 
had  sustained  the  night  before,  to  pay  any  attention  to 
the  reports  of  their  spies  that  the  Christians  of  Kayaki 
had  fled  to  Arima.  Lord  Oda  was  dying,  and  the  Vice- 
Governor  Baba  had  assumed  his  office  ; but  it  required 
time  to  reorganize  the  demoralized  forces  of  the  city,  to 
fill  the  places  of  officials  that  had  been  killed,  and  once 
again  to  take  up  the  work  of  persecution. 

All  this  Obata’s  servants  reported  to  their  master,  and 
he  and  Shiro  decided  that  on  the  following  day  they 
would  set  out  on  their  overland  journey  to  Arima.  Early 
the  next  morning,  therefore,  the  household  was  astir, 
making  ready  for  their  departure.  Ine  was  to  be  borne 
in  a nori-mono  by  four  servants,  Shiro  and  Obata  keeping 
slightly  in  advance  while  passing  through  the  city.  A 
great  number  of  women  had  been  trampled  down  in  the 
panic  among  the  populace  on  the  night  of  the  rescue,  and 
the  sight  of  nori-monos  bearing  away  the  injured  to  their 


Pctoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  261 


homes  in  the  surrounding  villages  had  become  too  fre- 
quent to  attract  any  attention. 

Thus  it  happened  that  Ine  and  her  bearers  passed 
through  the  streets  unnoticed.  Once  out  of  Nagasaki, 
and  on  the  highway  that  led  up  the  valley  to  the  north- 
east of  the  city  and  over  a range  of  high  hills  in  the  di- 
rection of  Ishihaya  and  Shimabara,  the  little  party  felt 
that  the  greatest  danger  was  past.  At  noon  they  halted 
in  Ishihaya.  Tidings  of  Paoli’s  return  to  Japan  and  of 
his  rescue  of  the  Christian  prisoners  had  preceded  them, 
and  the  village  was  agog  to  hear  still  further  accounts  of 
the  awful  doings  of  the  accursed  barbarian.  As  soon, 
therefore,  as  it  was  discovered  that  Shiro’s  pqrty  was 
from  Nagasaki,  the  yadoya  in  which  they  were  resting 
was  beset  by  an  excited  throng  of  villagers  eager  to  hear 
their  story.  It  required  all  the  dexterity  of  the  three  to 
satisfy  the  people’s  curiosity  and  yet  not  to  imperil 
themselves  ; for  it  was  evident  that  their  listeners  were 
mad  with  hatred  against  the  Christians,  and  had  the  little 
party,  either  by  word  or  action,  excited  their  suspicions, 
ill  would  it  have  fared  with  them. 

Finally,  they  succeeded  in  getting  away  from  the  vil- 
lage. Their  course  now  lay  through  the  little  isthmus 
that  connects  the  Shimabara  peninsula  with  the  main- 
land. Before  them  towered  the  peaks  of  Unzen,  from 
the  highest  of  which  heavy  volumes  of  smoke  and  steam 
rolled  up  lazily  into  the  cloudless  sky.  A few  hours 
brought  them  to  a small  hamlet,  and  here  the  road  to 
Obama  and  Arima  branched  off  from  the  main  highway. 
It  was  sunset  when  they  had  surmounted  the  foot-hills 
and  entered  upon  the  pass  that  led  over  the  mountains. 
From  travellers  that  they  met,  they  learned  that  Nabe- 
shima  had  arrived  at  noon  in  Obama,  and,  not  knowing 
how  long  he  might  remain,  they  did  not  dare  to  enter 


262  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


that  village,  lest  the  prince,  if  still  there,  might  recognize 
Ine.  The  little  party,  therefore,  struck  off  over  the 
mountain  by  an  unbeaten  route,  hoping  to  reach  the 
highway  beyond  Obama  before  it  became  too  dark  for 
them  to  distinguish  the  way. 

In  this  they  were  disappointed.  Night  came  upon 
them,  and  the  road  was  yet  far  distant.  Still  they  wan- 
dered on,  the  servants,  wearied  with  the  long  journey, 
stumbling  over  rocks  and  plunging  into  pitfalls.  At  last 
they  struck  a path  that  seemed  to  lead  in  the  direction 
of  the  road  they  were  in  quest  of.  This  they  followed 
for  an  hour  or  more,  now  descending  into  deep  ravines, 
and  now  clambering  up  steep  and  stony  slopes.  Sudden- 
ly they  emerged  on  a little  plateau.  On  their  left  rose 
the  black  mass  of  the  mountain,  its  summit  now  sur- 
mounted with  a pillar  of  fiery  cloud.  Far  away  to  their 
right  they  beheld  the  gleam  from  countless  camp-fires 
on  the  open  plains  below.  But  just  before  them  rose  the 
dark  shadow  of  a dwelling.  No  light  shone  from  it,  nor 
did  there  come  any  sounds  of  life  from  within.  All  was 
dark  and  silent. 

As  the  reader  has  doubtless  already  surmised,  they 
were  standing  before  the  hermitage  of  Lord  Mori  of 
Unzen,  and  it  was  Shiro’s  request  for  shelter  for  Ine  that 
had  led  Una  to  ask  her  cousin  to  admit  them. 


VII. 

NABESHIMA  MEETS  A FAIR  FOE  AND  IS  CONQUERED. 

Neither  Shiro  nor  Obata  perceived  the  tall  form  of 
the  Prince  of  Kai,  when,  in  response  to  Una’s  invitation, 
the  two  men  entered  the  hermitage. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  263 

“The  lady  that  is  ill— where  is  she?”  the  girl  asked  in 
alarm,  beginning  to  fear  that  in  opening  the  door  they 
had  fallen  into  some  trap. 

“ She  is  in  the  norimono  without,”  said  Shiro.  “ Is 
there  some  place  at  hand  where  she  may  rest  ?” 

Between  the  outer  room  and  the  scholar’s  cave-study 
was  a large  apartment,  and,  in  answer  to  Shiro’s  question, 
Una  pointed  to  this. 

“You  may  have  the  use  of  that  room  to-night.  While 
you  are  bringing  in  the  woman,  I shall  call  the  servants 
to  prepare  her  couch.” 

The  prince  came  forward  out  of  the  shadow  in  which 
he  had  been  standing.  Shiro  and  Obata  were  visibly 
agitated  as  they  looked  upon  him  ; and  a swift  glance, 
that  did  not  escape  Nabeshima’s  keen  eyes,  passed  be- 
tween them. 

“With  your  permission,  friends,”  he  said  to  the  two 
men,  “ I shall  assist  the  lady  into  the  house.  Do  you 
both  remain  here  and  before  they  could  interpose  an 
objection,  the  prince  had  passed  out  of  the  door  and  was 
standing  by  the  side  of  the  palanquin.  Ine  had  already 
alighted  and  was  wearily  awaiting  the  result  of  Shiro’s 
solicitation. 

“ Thou  art  ill,  lady,  they  tell  me,”  said  Nabeshima,  ap- 
proaching the  young  woman  with  a profound  obeisance. 
“A  couch  is  being  made  ready  for  thee  within — ” 

A low  cry  of  surprise  and  terror  interrupted  him.  The 
young  woman  leaned  heavily  against  the  norimono  for 
support.  She  had  recognized  Nabeshima’s  voice.  The 
very  one  she  had  most  dreaded  to  meet,  and,  in  their  ef- 
forts to  escape  whom  they  had  left  the  highway  and  had 
become  lost  among  the  mountains,  was  before  her.  Then, 
as  a sudden  impulse  flashed  into  her  mind,  she  raised  her 
eyes  to  the  prince’s  face,  which  she  could  dimly  discern 


264  Paoli ; the  Last  oj  the  Missionaries. 


from  the  light  that  streamed  through  the  open  door. 
She  would  throw  herself  and  her  companions  on  his 
mercy.  It  was  their  only  hope  ; escape  was  impossible. 

“ Prince  Nabeshima,  ” she  said  in  a low,  rapid,  tremu- 
lous whisper,  and  he  started  at  the  sound  of  his  name, 
“throughout  all  the  proud  empire  of  our  Japan  thou  art 
honored  as  a pattern  of  noble  generosity  and  courteous 
chivalry  toward  friend  and  foe.  Thou  hast  never  sul- 
lied, they  say,  the  honor  of  thy  manhood  with  treachery 
or  by  taking  a cowardly  advantage  of  an  ememy  whom 
misfortune  has  thrown  into  thy  power.  Thou  art  brave 
and  good.  My  Lord,  there  is  one  woman  whom  thou 
hast  professed  to  love,  whose  heart  thou  hast  sought  to 
win — a heart  long  ago  given  to  another.  That  woman, 
who  believes  thee  to  be  all  that  common  fame  reports  of 
thee,  stands  before  thee.  ” 

Nabeshima  sprang  to  the  girl’s  side. 

“ Ine  Tanaka  ! is  it  thou  ?”  he  cried,  in  a voice  that  be- 
trayed the  deepest  emotion. 

The  woman  waved  him  back.  “ It  is  I,  my  lord,  and 
lo,  I am  in  thy  hands  ! It  was  in  our  efforts  to  avoid  thee 
that  we  left  the  highway  and  went  astray  upon  the  moun- 
tains. But,  noble  Prince,  it  is  not  for  myself  that  I 
speak,  for  I know  that  I am  safe  in  the  presence  of  the 
Lord  of  Kai.” 

Nabeshima  would  have  spoken  but  Ine  raised  her  hand 
entreating  his  silence. 

“Thou  knowest  me,  my  lord,  to  be  a Christian.  I am 
on  my  way  to  Arima,  in  the  company  of  my  betrothed 
husband.” 

“ What  !”  exclaimed  her  companion,  no  longer  able  to 
control  himself  ; “ Nirado  Shiro  ! He,  whom  thy  people 
believe  to  be  theii  heaven-appointed  leader  ! Has  he,  too, 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  265 


returned  to  add  his  presence  to  the  woes  that  already 
afflict  our  unhappy  country  ?” 

“Our  leader  he  is,  my  lord  ; our  deliverer  he  shall  be. 
He  has  come  back  to  our  Japan  that  the  woes  you  lament 
may  come  to  an  end  in  the  triumph  of  the  truth,”  replied 
the  woman  with  an  awful  earnestness.  “But  enough  of 
this  ; I may  not  hope  to  convert  you  to  our  side  at  this 
late  hour.  Nevertheless,  you  perceive,  great  sir,  that  I 
am  trusting  the  honor  and  chivalry  that  have  thrown  such 
a halo  of  glory  about  the  name»of  Nabeshima,  Prince  of 
Kai,  in  thus  commending  my  companion  to  thy  mercy. 
My  lord,*is  that  trust  misplaced?  Have  I spoken  in 
vain  ?” 

The  man  at  her  side  bowed  his  head  in  silence.  Ine 
could  hear  his  labored  breathing,  but  she  knew  nothing 
of  the  fierce  struggle  that  was  rending  his  soul  ; she 
was  only  conscious  of  her  own  heart’s  loud  throbbings. 
What  if  he  should  refuse  to  be  merciful?  Her  brain 
reeled  at  the  thought.  Slowly  the  prince  raised  his 
head  ; slowly  his  eyes  sought  the  face  of  the  woman  by 
his  side  ; slowly,  and  with  a terrible  solemnity,  came  his 
answer. 

“ Ine  Tanaka,  because  it  is  thou  that  hast  spoken,  Ni- 
rado  Shiro  is  safe  until  he  enters  the  Christian  camp  on 
the  morrow ! Think  not  that  I hesitated  because  I 
coveted  the  honor  of  being  the  slayer  of  the  arch-rebel ! 
It  was  the  heart  of  the  lover  and  not  that  of  the  warrior, 
that  made  pause.  Nirado  Shiro  stands  between  me  and 
the  woman  that  is  dearer  to  me  than  my  own  life.  But 
no  more  of  this,  else  I am  unmanned,”  and  the  bitterness 
of  a love  that  was  vain  made  harsh  the  young  noble- 
man’s voice  and  darkened  his  handsome  face. 

The  heart  of  man  is  exceedingly  mighty  ; the  fair  foe 
had  conquered.  Yet  from  her  attitude,  one  would  have 


266  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


thought  otherwise ; she  was  kneeling  at  the  prince’s 
feet. 

“ Nay,  Ine  Taneka,  arise  !”  said  Nabeshima,  tenderlyj 
and  as  he  gazed  down  upon  the  woman  he  loved,  suddenly 
she  seemed  to  be  wrapped  about  in  mist,  for  he  looked 
upon  her  through  tears.  “ Thou  hast  my  pledge,  O 
maiden  !”  he  continued  brokenly,  “ that  thou  and  thine 
shall  suffer  no  harm  from  Nabeshima  of  Kai.” 

But  she  to  whom  he  spoke,  heard  not  his  words.  Still 
weak  and  suffering  from  her  wounds,  the  fatigue  of  the 
long  journey  from  Nagasaki,  together  with  her  recogni- 
tion of  the  prince,  had  proved  too  heavy  a strain  upon 
her,  and  she  had  swooned. 


VIII. 

ENEMIES  AND  RIVALS. 

Gathering  up  her  slight  form  in  his  arms,  Nabeshima 
bore  her  into  the  house.  The  two  women  servants  had 
made  ready  a couch  in  the  room,  which  Una  had  pointed 
out  to  Shiro.  The  latter  was  holding  a whispered  con- 
versation with  Obata  in  the  outer  apartment,  when 
Nabeshima  entered,  bearing  the  unconscious  Ine  in  his 
arms.  Resigning  her  to  the  care  of  Una  and  her  women, 
the  prince  returned  to  the  outer  room,  and,  approaching 
the  two  men,  said,  in  a coldly  courteous  tone  : 

“ Strangers,  you  appear  disturbed  and  anxious.  Let 
me  assure  you  that  there  is  no  cause  for  fear  this  side  of 
the  Christian  lines.  Yonder  noble  woman  has  told  me 
all,  and  I have  pledged  my  word  that  she  and  her  friends 
shall  suffer  no  harm.” 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


267 


Shiro’s  face  wore  a look  of  defiant  disdain,  as  he  replied 
hotly  : 

“ If  Ine  Tanaka  thought  it  necessary  to  supplicate  thy 
mercy,  magnanimous  sir,  she  grievously  erred.  I fear 
thee  not,”  and  the  young  man’s  hand  sought  the  hilt  of 
his  sword.  “Thou  art,  I understand,  but  a guest  here, 
like  ourselves,”  he  continued  ; “ I would  see  the  master  of 
the  house,  and  treat  with  him.” 

Nabeshima  bit  his  lips  in  anger.  The  insolent  tone  of 
the  speaker,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  spoke  of  the 
noble  act  of  the  woman  whom  the  prince  loved,  but  whose 
plighted  troth  the  other  held,  stung  the  chivalrous  noble- 
man to  the  quick.  Curbing  the  resentful  words  that  rose 
to  his  lips,  Nabeshima  replied,  with  a cold  stateliness  that 
rebuked  Shiro’s  passionate  outburst  more  effectually  than 
any  words  could  have  done  : 

“Nirado  Shiro,  thy  boyish  bravado  is  lost  on  Nabeshi- 
ma of  Kai.  I repeat — thou  art  safe  until  thou  reachest 
the  camp  of  thy  friends  at  Arima  ; thenceforward, 
beware  ! I shall  expect  thee  to  make  good  thy  boast, 
that  thou  dost  not  fear  me,  upon  the  field  of  battle  !” 
The  sound  of  approaching  footsteps  without  drew  the 
attention  of  the  three  men  to  the  door.  Then  a voice 
called  Nabeshima’s  name. 

“ It  is  my  body-guard  returning,”  said  the  prince  to  his 
companions  who,  upon  hearing  the  name  of  the  person 
whom  Sl>iro  had  so  insolently  defied,  had  stood  abashed 
and  humbled  before  him.  “It  will  be  well  for  you  to 
retire  to  the  inner  room.  Even  my  presence  might  be 
powerless  to  save  you,  did  my  retainers  know  who  you 
are.” 

Thereupon  Shiro  and  Obata  entered  the  apartment 
where  Ine  was  reclining  upon  the  couch  that  had  been 
spread  for  her  on  the  mats.  She  had  recovered  from  her 


268  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Alissionaries. 


swoon,  and  her  large  bright  eyes  turned  with  an  affection- 
ate look  upon  Shiro,  as  he  went  to  her  side.  She  felt  that 
he  was  doubly  hers  now,  for  had  she  not  saved  his  life 
and  secured  him  a safe  conduct  to  the  very  ranks  of  his 
waiting  army?  Una  had  been  seated  by  the  injured 
woman’s  couch,  but  at  the  entrance  of  the  two  men,  she 
arose,  welcoming  them  with  a gracious  smile. 

“ Thy  lady,  gentle  sir,”  she  said,  addressing  Shiro,  “ has 
been  telling  me  of  your  wanderings  on  the  mountains. 
You  must  be  wearied  and  a-hungered.  Rest  you,  I pray  ; 
the  women  will  bring  in  meat  and  drink  presently.” 

The  young  man’s  eyes  met  those  of  the  maiden  ; then, 
with  a low  bow,  he  replied,  in  his  most  courteous  manner  : 
“ We  were  happy  indeed,  fair  lady,  in  losing  our  way, 
since  chance  has  conducted  us  to  so  gracious  a hostess.” 
The  girl’s  fair  face  colored  and  her  eyes  fell  before  the 
speaker’s  ardent  gaze.  Yet  none  of  the  displeasure  and 
confusion  she  felt  did  she  suffer  her  guests  to  see,  as  with 
a calm  and  quiet  dignity  she  replied  : 

“ Nay,  good  sir,  were  thanks  at  all  called  for,  it  is  to 
my  father  that  they  belong.  Many  a night  have  lost 
travellers  sought  shelter  at  this  door,  and  never  once  has 
their  request  gone  unheard.” 

“ Thy  father,  good  hostess,”  said  Ine,  rising  to  a sitting 
posture,  “is  he  within  to-night  ? I would  thank  him  for 
this  unlooked-for  shelter.” 

“ Heed  it  not,  I pray  thee,”  Una  responded  gently. 
“ He  is  indeed  within,  but — Ah,  he  comes,”  she  added,  as 
Lord  Mori  came  noiselessly  through  the  sliding-doors  be- 
tween them  and  the  room  wherein  lay  the  wounded 
Englishman. 

“ Our  guests,  dear  father,”  his  daughter  said,  with  a 
slight  wave  of  the  hand  in  the  direction  of  Shiro ’s  party. 
“ They  lost  their  way  upon  the  mountains.” 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  269 


With  low  bows,  Ine,  Shiro  and  Obata  saluted  their  host, 
thanking  him  for  the  hospitality  of  his  roof. 

While  they  were  still  speaking,  the  prince  entered  the 
apartment.  Going  to  his  side,  Una  asked  eagerly  : 

“ Did  I not  hear  your  retainers  returning,  cousin  ? 
What  success  ?” 

“ Alas  ! Una,  they  utterly  failed  to  get  any  trace  of  the 
outlaws,”  the  other  replied  moodily. 

The  girl’s  face  showed  the  anxious  foreboding  of  peril 
that  she  felt.  While  Gonroku  lived  she  knew  that  she 
would  be  in  danger.  Nabeshima,  perceiving  the  troub- 
led look  in  her  face,  took  her  hands  and  said,  assuringly  : 
“ Fear  not,  fair  cousin.  The  hunt  has  not  yet  ceased  ; 
to-morrow  these  mountains  shall  be  thoroughly 
searched.  Until  the  foreign  ship  comes  to  Arima  and 
you  are  safely  aboard,  a guard  of  my  bravest  and  most 
trustworthy  retainers  shall  keep  constant  watch  over 
you.  Again  I say,  dear  cousin,  do  not  fear.” 


IX. 

THE  VERY  WONDERFUL  EXPLCUT  OF  BISHOP  PAOLI. 

Great  was  the  rejoicing  among  the  Christian  multi- 
tudes at  Arima  when  the  triumphant  Paoli,  at  the  head 
of  the  long  line  of  prisoners,  whom  he  had  rescued  from 
the  cross  and  the  stake  at  Nagasaki  the  night  before, 
rode  into  the  camp.  The  women  and  children,  who  had  left 
Kayaki  by  boat,  had  already  arrived,  and  the  general 
jubilation  over  the  great  victory  was  marred  only  by  the 
sight  of  the  sorrow-stricken  widows  and  orphans  whose 
husbands  and  fathers  had  fallen  in  the  terrific  conflict  on 
the  slopes  of  Higashi-yama. 


2 jo  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Wearied  as  he  was  with  the  toils  of  war  and  of  travel, 
Bishop  Paoli  stopped  not  to  rest  until  he  had  visited 
the  castle,  carefully  inspected  its  walls,  ridden  through 
the  camp  and  examined  the  outer  defenses  even  to  the 
rude  fortifications  that  had  been  thrown  up  upon  the 
summits  of  the  foot-hills.  It  was  long  after  nightfall 
when  he  returned  to  the  village.  As  he  was  passing 
through  the  camp,  a vast  concourse  of  Christian  warriors 
poured  out  to  meet  him.  Halting  on  a slight  eminence, 
his  gaze  swept  over  the  sea  of  faces  before  him,  and  into 
his  eyes,  heavy  with  weariness,  there  flashed  a look  of 
triumphant  exultation. 

“The  army  of  the  living  God  !”  he  exclaimed  aloud  ; 
“strong  in  His  name  for  the  overthrow  of  the  infidel, 
and  for  the  salvation  of  the  Church  of  Japan  !”  And 
blessing  the  dense  throngs  that  bowed  their  knees  as  he 
rode  by,  he  entered  the  village. 

The  forenoon  of  the  next  day  Paoli  spent  busily 
engaged  in  his  duties  as  bishop.  He  laid  aside  his  armor 
and  the  battle-ax,  still  stained  with  blood,  and  in  the 
rich  vestments  of  his  office  he  received  the  native  priests, 
hearing  their  reports,  and  consulting  with  them  upon 
the  measures  to  be  adopted  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of 
the  army  during  the  coming  campaign. 

At  noon,  intelligence  was  brought  in  by  the  spies  that 
the  government  forces  were  moving  over  the  hills  be- 
tween Arima  and  Shimabara  ; and  for  the  remainder  of 
the  day  Paoli  was  again  a warrior,  riding  in  full  armor 
here  and  there  through  the  camp,  his  terrible  weapon 
hanging  at  his  saddle-bow.  Everywhere  the  insurgent 
forces  felt  the  inspiration  of  his  presence. 

Toward  evening  some  Christians  brought  in  a man, 
whom  they  said  they  had  discovered  among  the  foot- 
hills, closely  pursued  by  enemies,  who  had  already  dis- 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  271 


abled  his  right  hand,  and  indicted  other  wounds  upon 
him.  They  had  rescued  him,  and,  learning  that  he  was  a 
Christian,  who  had  been  fleeing  to  Arima,  when  he  had 
been  beset  by  his  foes,  they  had,  at  his  own  request, 
brought  him  before  the  leaders.  This  man,  it  need 
scarcely  be  said,  was  Yamada,  the  Ronin,  who,  with  the 
assistance  of  Gonroku  and  his  gang,  acting  the  part  of 
pretended  pursuers,  had  been  able  to  deceive  the  spies, 
and  to  gain  an  entrance  into  the  Christian  camp.  And 
thus  the  wily  avenger’s  first  step  in  his  plot  was  com- 
pletely successful. 

That  night  Bishop  Paoli  did  not  retire  to  rest.  The 
soldiers  slept  with  their  armor  on  and  their  weapons 
lying  by  their  sides.  It  was  not  known  at  what  hour  the 
foe  might  begin  the  attack,  and  the  Christians  employed 
the  utmost  vigilance  to  prevent  a surprise.  All  night 
long  detachments  of  men  and  women  labored  upon  the 
defenses,  strengthening  them  wherever,  in  the  bishop’s 
opinion,  they  were  weak.  Paoli  moved  among  the  work- 
ers, superintending  their  labors  and  encouraging  them 
by  his  word  and  presence.  Suddenly,  about  midnight, 
as  he  was  passing  like  a shadow  among  them,  they 
heard  a hollow  groan  break  from  his  lips,  and  saw  him 
stagger  to  a tree  to  support  himself,  his  face  blanching 
to  a death-like  pallor. 

Some  of  the  women  hastened  to  him,  thinking  that 
he  had  been  taken  suddenly  ill.  But  Paoli  waved  them 
aside,  and  with  a tremendous  bound  sprang  upon  the 
breast-work  upon  which  they  were  laboring.  In  another 
instant  he  had  leaped  down  on  the  outer  side,  and,  to  the 
consternation  of  the  beholders,  who  quickly  gave  the 
alarm  to  the  camp,  the  bishop  hurried  off  in  the  direction 
of  the  mountains.  On  and  on  he  went  through  the  thick 
darkness,  his  tall  form  stiffly  erect  and  his  eyes  fixed  and 


272  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


staring ; his  breath  came  in  quick,  sharp  gasps,  low 
moans  burst  now  and  then  from  his  lips,  and  the  perspira- 
tion stood  out  on  his  forehead  in  heavy  drops  and  rolled 
down  his  face. 

Bishop  Paoli  was  in  a trance. 

In  his  rapid  course,  the  Jesuit  reached  the  Obama  high- 
way ; and  up  this  he  sped.  A path  branched  off  from  the 
main  road,  leading  over  a mountain  to  his  right  ; he  took 
this,  and  hastened  on  and  on.  Above  him,  the  fires  in 
Unzen’s  crater  cast  up  a lurid  gleam  on  the  smoky  pillar 
that  swayed  to  and  fro  in  the  night  wind,  and  in  this  dim, 
tremulous  light  the  bishop’s  swiftly  moving  figure  shone 
out  tall  and  ghostly.  The  path  he  was  following  led  to 
Lord  Mori’s  hermitage,  and  soon  Paoli  had  gained  the  lit- 
tle plateau  upon  which  it  stood,  and  in  another  minute, 
he  had  reached  the  house.  The  door  was  slightly  open, 
and,  noiselessly  as  a shadow,  he  passed  through.  Around 
him  lay  a score  of  sleeping  soldiers,  and  from  a room  be- 
yond came  the  glimmer  of  a light  and  the  sound  of 
voices.  Without  a moment's  pause,  the  bishop  strode 
forward,  and  sweeping  the  sliding  door  of  this  further 
apartment  aside,  he  glided  like  a specter  into  the  room 
and  into  the  presence  of  Una,  Nabeshima,  and  Shiro’s 
party. 

The  sudden  and  startling  appearance  of  Paoli  and  his 
wildly  staring  eyes  seemed  to  paralyze  the  beholders, 
and  to  strike  a strange  awe  into  their  hearts,  but  of  this, 
or  even  their  presence  the  Jesuit  appeared  to  be  uncon- 
scious. Straight  to  the  place  where  Shiro  was  sitting  he 
strode,  until  his  form  towered  above  the  head  of  the 
young  leader.  The  bishop  spoke  not  ; for  a short  time 
he  moved  not  ; but  his  terrible  eyes  burned  down  into 
those  of  the  younger  man. 

Mechanically  Shiro  arose,  his  own  face  becoming  as 


HT  TO  THK  PI.AOB  WHERE  SHIRO  WAS  8ITTINO  11B  STRODE. — See  Pape  272. 


MM 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  275 


pallidas  that  of  the  strange  being  bending  over  him.  His 
lips  moved,  but  no  sound  save  a hollow  groan  escaped 
them.  The  mesmeric  spell  of  Paoli’s  eyes  had  fallen 
upon  him,  and  he  was  powerless  to  resist  its  subtle  influ- 
ence. Speechless  and  with  bated  breath,  the  little  group 
of  spectators  watched  the  movements  of  the  two  men. 
They  saw  Paoli  turn  and  glide  toward  the  door,  with  the 
same  swift  and  noiseless  tread  with  which  he  had  en- 
tered ; they  saw  him  pass  through  the  midst  of  the 
sleeping  guards  in  the  outer  room,  and  they  watched 
him  as  he  gained  the  open  air  and  disappeared  in  the 
darkness.  But  he  went  not  alone.  Behind  him,  with  a 
step  as  quick  and  as  echoless  as  his  own,  sped  the 
slender  figure  of  Nirado  Shiro. 

It  was  not  until  the  two  had  vanished  from  sight  in 
the  thick  darkness  without,  that  the  spell,  which  seemed 
to  bind  every  soul  in  the  room  into  a motionless  silence, 
was  broken. 

And  then  Obata,  groaning  aloud,  bowed  his  face  to 
the  floor. 

And  Una  gave  utterance  to  a low  cry  of  surprise  and 
terror. 

And  Lord  Nabeshima  sprang  forward  to  rouse  his  re- 
tainers to  the  pursuit. 

And  Ine  Tanaka  flung  herself  upon  the  breast  of  the 
prince,  whispering  the  words  : “ For  my  sake,  forbear  !” 

And  the  guard  slept  on. 


276  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


X. 

HER  FOE  AND  LOVER. 

“As  I stood  by  your  norimono  last  night,  you  said  that 
you  could  not  hope  to  convert  me  to  your  side  at  this 
late  hour.” 

The  speaker  was  Nabeshima,  and  the  person  to  whom 
his  words  were  addressed  was  Ine  Tanaka.  The  two 
were  riding  side  by  side  through  the  semi-tropical  bright- 
ness of  the  autumn  morning  down  the  mountain  road 
that  wound  through  the  Unzen  passes  in  its  descent  to 
the  plain  of  the  Christians.  At  some  little  distance  in  ad- 
vance, rode  the  prince’s  body-guard,  while  behind  them 
Obata  and  his  servants  were  following  on  foot.  In  ful- 
fillment of  his  promise  of  the  night  before,  Nabeshima 
was  conducting  Ine  and  her  friends  to  the  Christian  camp. 
As  the  young  nobleman  uttered  the  words  we  have  just 
given,  he  looked  questioningly  into  his  companion’s  face. 
The  woman  understood  the  motive  of  his  remark,  and 
her  earnest,  truthful  eyes  met  his  as  she  answered  : 

“ You  would  know,  my  Lord,  whether  I ever  entertained 
hope  of  your  conversion  to  our  faith.  Time  was  when  I 
did,  but  I do  so  no  longer.  Your  name  is  now  enrolled 
among  our  foes  ; the  retainers  of  Kai,  at  the  bidding  of 
their  prince,  are  even  now  encamped  on  the  plain  below 
to  do  battle  against  the  Christians.  Yet,  my  Lord,”  and 
the  woman’s  sad  voice  grew  touchingly  tender  in  the 
childlike  confidence  it  evinced,  “yet  I believe  you  do  not 
hate  us  with  such  a merciless  hatred  as  do  some  of  your 
fellow-princes.” 

The  pathos  of  Ine’s  words  and  the  simplicity  of  her 
manner  stirred  the  man's  soul. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


2 77 


“ Nay,  Ine  Tanaka,”  he  cried,  his  voice  unsteady  with 
the  emotions  that  agitated  him,  “believe  me,  I do  not 
hate  your  friends,  much  less  the  religion  they  profess.  It 
were  impossible,  indeed,  for  me  to  do  so.  Was  not  the 
House  of  Kai  the  first  of  our  nobility  to  embrace  Chris- 
tianity? Were  not  my  father,  and  his  father,  and  his 
grandfather  as  well,  zealous  adherents  of  the  foreign 
faith  ? And  are  not  a goodly  number  of  my  kindred  still 
its  believers  ?” 

“ Then,  O my  Lord,  why — ?” 

Nabeshima  threw  up  his  hand  in  a deprecatory  ges- 
ture. 

“ You  would  ask,  Ine  Tanaka,  why  it  is,  then,  that  I 
have  taken  up  arms  against  your  people.  I could  not  do 
otherwise.  My  duty  as  the  prince  of  Japan,  is  to  uphold 
the  laws  which  I have  helped  to  make.  What  matters 
it  that  the  edict,  commanding  the  utter  extirpation  of  the 
Christian  religion,  is  not  to  my  liking,  or  that  this  dread- 
ful work  of  torturing  the  condemned  and  murdering 
helpless  women  and  children  is  abhorrent  to  me  ? All 
the  other  princes  advocate  the  severest  measures  against 
the  proscribed  faith,  and,  when  they  summon  me  to  their 
assistance,  I must  go.” 

“ But,  my  Lord,”  the  woman  eagerly  rejoined,  “ you 
are  popular  aud  influential,  your  house  is  one  of  the  most 
powerful  in  the  nation.  Even  late  as  it  is  now,  were  you 
disposed  to  make  the  effort,  this  cruel  persecution  might 
be  stopped,  the  suffering  Christians  might  yet  be  granted 
freedom  of  worship,  and,  thus,  would  the  impending  con- 
flict be  averted.” 

Never  could  Ine  Tanaka  forget  the  look  upon  Nabe- 
shima’s  face,  as  he  listened  to  her  words.  Respect  and 
love  for  her  strove  with  the  resolution  forming  in  his 
mind  to  tell  her  plainly  the  character  of  the  cause  with 


2 78  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


which  she  was  heart  and  soul  identified.  Her  appeal  for 
his  intercession  left  him  no  alternative.  He  must  either 
justify  his  course  in  her  eyes,  or  permit  her  to  believe 
that  he  and  his  fellow-princes  were  engaged, — not  in  the 
honorable  work  of  suppressing  a dangerous  revolt,  but 
in  a persecution,  ruthless  as  unprovoked. 

“ Ine  Tanaka,  you  compel  me  to  say  what  I would 
choose,  in  your  presence,  to  leave  unspoken.  It  is  not 
freedom  of  worship  for  their  converts  that  the  foreign 
priests  have  most  desired  ; it  is  authority  for  their  church 
over  our  rulers.  Freedom  of  worship  they  did  enjoy  for 
many  years,  and  most  grievously  did  they  abuse  their 
privilege.  What  intrigues  did  they  not  engage  in,  what 
conspiracies  did  they  not  form,  what  treasonable  doc- 
trines did  they  not  teach  their  followers,  what  overtures 
for  the  armed  intervention  of  foreign  nations  did  they 
not  make  that  they  might  establish  the  power  of  their 
Pope  in  Japan?  Need  we  be  surprised  that  our  people, 
through  their  fear  for  the  safety  of  our  country,  have 
been  maddened  into  unnecessary  cruelty  ? or  that  our 
princes,  anathematized  by  the  missionaries  and  openly 
defied  by  their  Christian  subjects,  have  declared  that  a 
religion  which  so  alienates  the  hearts  of  its  disciples  and 
calls  for  national  subjection  to  an  European  lord  must 
be  extirpated  from  the  soil  of  Japan  ?” 

In  vain  had  Nabeshima  spoken  ; his  words  were  lost 
upon  the  woman  who  rode  by  his  side. 

From  her  childhood,  Ine  Tanaka  had  been  taught  to 
believe  that  as  there  was  but  one  God,  so  He  had  but  one 
vice-regent  on  earth, — the  head  of  His  infallible  church, 
who  was,  by  divine  appointment,  a king  over  the  kings 
of  all  nations,  a lord  over  every  earthly  lord.  It  was, 
therefore,  impossible  for  her  to  appreciate  the  feeling 
that  inspired  the  heathen  princes  of  her  land.  This  lib- 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  279 

erty,  of  which  they  were  so  proud  and  for  the  safety  of 
which  they  had  become  alarmed,  was,  to  her,  nothing 
more  than  the  lawless  freedom  which  a pirate  or  a brig- 
and might  enjoy  in  defiance  of  the  justly  established 
government.  Earthly  rulers  had  no  power  save  that 
which  they  received  from  God  through  his  representative 
among  men.  And  that  representative  abode  in  Rome. 
Such  were  the  teachings  that  Ine  Tanaka  had  heard 
again  and  again  from  the  lips  of  Francesco  Paoli,  and 
so  complete  had  been  her  acceptance  of  them  that  the 
principles  they  inculcated  had  become  interwoven  with 
the  inmost  fibre  of  her  being,  controlling  even  the 
powers  of  her  reason  and  will. 

“ My  Lord,  my  Lord  ! These  arguments  of  yours 
have  been  in  the  mouths  of  God’s  enemies  ever  since 
angels  sinned  and  fell  ; by  such  pleas  have  they  hardened 
their  wicked  hearts  against  both  warning  and  repentance. 
It  was  so  with  the  rebellious  nations  in  the  days  of  Noah, 
and  the  waters  of  an  offended  God  swept  them  from  the 
face  of  the  earth  ; it  was  so  with  the  sinners  of  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah,  and  brimstone  and  fire  from  the  Lord 
out  of  Heaven  destroyed  them  and  their  evil  works.  So, 
O my  Lord,  shall  it  be  with  the  enemies  of  the  Church 
of  Japan  ! It  is  the  promise  of  Heaven  that  we  shall 
triumph  over  those  who  have  risen  up  against  us.  The 
little  Christian  army  in  yonder  castle,  however  feeble 
and  contemptible  it  may  seem  to  its  foes,  is  no  less  in- 
vincible than  the  Omnipotence  that  stands  behind  it  and 
will,  in  the  day  of  battle,  clothe  it  with  victory.” 

The  woman’s  conscientious  earnestness,  her  lofty  faith 
and  devotion  thrilled  Nabeshima’s  soul  with  an  admira- 
tion for  her  such  as  his  passionate  love  had  hitherto 
failed  to  evoke  ; her  utter  inability  to  perceive  the  hope- 
lessness of  the  cause  with  which  she  had  indissolubly 


280  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


linked  her  own  destiny,  her  blindness  to  the  destruction 
awaiting  her  appalled  him. 

The  heart  of  the  lover  prevailed  over  the  chivalrous 
honor  of  the  prince.  Spurring  his  horse  close  to  the  side 
of  his  companion’s,  he  seized  both  the  woman’s  hands, 
and,  as  her  startled  gaze  was  raised  to  his  wild,  anguished 
face,  he  cried  out,  all  his  passionate  longing  and  anxiety 
ringing  in  his  voice  : 

“ Madness,  madness,  Ine  Tanaka  ! Like  Nirado  Shiro, 
thou,  too,  art  under  the  baneful  spell  of  Francesco  Paoli, 
who,  insanely  fanatical  himself,  is  luring  all  who  trust 
him  to  ruin.” 

Ine  attempted  to  speak,  but  the  man’s  grasp  tightened 
upon  her  hands. 

“ Nay,  woman,  thou  shalt  hear  me  !”  he  continued 
wildly.  “Thou  hast  long  known  Nabeshima  to  be  a 
suitor  for  thy  love,  but  thou  hast  preferred  another 
before  him, — another,  Ine,  whose  heart  will  never  be 
thine.  Nay,  start  not  ! it  is  the  truth  which  I speak. 
Saw  you  not  last  night  his  indifference  to  yourself,  his 
admiration  for  my  cousin,  Una  Mori  ? Mark  me  ! he 
will  forsake  you  for  her.” 

The  two  had  now  gained  the  summit  of  the  last  foot- 
hill, and  the  camp  of  the  government  army,  stretching 
far  away  to  the  left,  the  village  of  Arima,  and,  a little 
beyond  this,  the  fortress  of  the  Christians  burst  into 
view.  Just  before  them  the  road  that  they  had  been  fol- 
lowing divided,  one  branch  leading  to  the  camp,  the 
other  to  the  village.  Here  the  prince  reined  in  his  own 
steed  and  that  of  his  companion. 

“ It  is  not  yet  too  late,  Ine  Tanaka,  to  save  thyself,”  he 
pleaded,  with  touching  earnestness,  “ or  to  make  me 
happy  in  the  choice  that  makes  thee  Princess  of  Kai.  O 
Ine,  cast  no  longer  aside  the  love  with  which  Nabeshima 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  281 


would  crown  thee  ! This  road  leads  to  the  camp  of  my 
waiting  army  ; come,  then,  with  me,  and  life  and  love 
and  honor  are  thine;  the  other,  believe  me,  O believe 
me  ! will  bring  thee  to  faithlessness,  suffering,  and 
death.” 

The  woman’s  face  had  grown  very  pale,  but  it  had  lost 
none  of  its  queenly  calmness  and  dignity.  Her  eyes, 
full  of  gentle  compassion,  met,  for  a moment,  the  pas- 
sionate, yearning  gaze  of  the  man  before  her,  and  then, 
looking  away  in  the  direction  of  the  Christian  camp,  she 
spoke,  as  if  communing  with  herself,  and  in  so  low'  a tone 
that  the  prince  had  to  bend  forward  to  catch  her  words  : 

“ What  I said  last  night,  my  Lord,  I say  again, — thou 
art  brave  and  noble  and  good,  and  Ine  Tanaka  is  highly 
honored  in  the  proffer  of  thy  love.  Yet  what  thou 
wishest  cannot  be.  Faithlessness,  suffering,  and  death, 
thou  sayest,  await  me  ; impossible,  my  lord  ! And  yet, 
were  it  so  to  be,  faithlessness,  suffering,  and  death  must 
Ine  Tanaka  choose.” 

And  the  Lord  of  Kai  bowed  his  princely  head. 

“ Thou  hast  spoken,  O woman,  and  Nabeshima  hath 
no  more  to  say.  Hereafter,  when  thou  seest  him  in  the 
forefront  of  battle  against  thy  people,  know,  then,  Ine 
Tanaka,  that  he  is  there,  not  for  the  honor  of  being  the 
first  to  plant  his  standard  upon  the  walls  of  the  captured 
castle,  but,  if  it  be  within  his  power  to  do  so,  to  save 
from  the  hands  of  those  wrho  would  slay  her,  the  woman 
he  loves.” 

And,  with  these  words,  the  prince  conducted  Ine  Tana- 
ka down  the  hill-side  by  the  road  that  led  to  the  camp 
of  the  Christians. 

At  daybreak  consternation  and  excitement  had  pre- 
vailed throughout  the  village  of  Arima  and  Hara  Castle. 


282  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ Bishop  Paoli  is  gone  ; he  was  seen  hastening  off  about 
midnight  in  the  direction  of  the  mountains  !”  were  the 
tidings  that  carried  astonishment  and  dismay  to  thous- 
ands of  hearts.  What  could  it  mean  ? Where  did  he 
go  ? Would  they  ever  look  upon  his  face  again  ? As 
the  sun  rose,  there  went  through  camp  and  village  and 
castle  the  joyful  cry  : “ The  bishop  is  returning,  and  a 
stranger  is  in  his  company  !”  Then,  as  Paoli  and  Shiro, 
side  by  side  and  without  looking  to  either  right  or  left, 
moved  swiftly  through  the  camp  of  the  army  and  past 
the  throngs  of  wondering  women  and  children  in  the  vil- 
lage until  they  disappeared  within  the  house  set  apart  for 
Paoli’s  quarters,  the  people  gazed  into  one  another’s 
faces  in  mute  bewilderment.  Had  their  beloved  bishop 
gone  mad  ? 

Another  report  sped  over  the  Christian  plain  in  the 
early  hours  of  this  memorable  day.  Nabeshima,  Prince 
of  Kai,  with  about  a score  of  horsemen,  was  approaching 
the  outer  defenses.  Thousands  rushed  to  the  hill-tops  to 
behold  the  far-famed  chieftain,  whose  prowess  they  must 
soon  encounter  in  the  field  of  war.  There,  sure  enough, 
was  the  little  cavalcade  bearing  straight  down  upon  the 
Christian  lines.  Slightly  in  the  rear  of  the  horsemen 
and  seated  on  a gayly  caparisoned  steed,  came  a woman 
and  by  her  side  rode  the  redoubted  warrior.  At  a short 
distance  from  the  line  of  fortifications  the  cavalcade 
stopped.  The  woman  dismounted,  and,  accompanied  by 
five  men,  came  on  toward  the  Christians  ; the  prince  and 
his  horsemen  in  the  meantime  galloping  off  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  government  troops.  Soon  it  was  heralded 
abroad,  through  camp  and  village,  that  the  Lord  of  Kai 
had  escorted  Ine  Tanaka,  the  betrothed  wife  of  their 
commander-in-chief,  from  Unzen  to  Arima  ; and  the 
astonished  multitudes  wondered  what  strange  thing 
would  happen  next. 


BOOK  EIGHTH 


HOW  THEY  KEPT  CHRISTMAS  AT  ARIMA. 


I. 


A SURPRISE  THAT  WAS  NO  SURPRISE. 


N former  times,  Hara  Castle,  which 
had  now  become  the  stronghold 
of  the  insurgent  Christians,  had 
been  the  fortress  of  the  Shimdbara 
princes,  but  about  the  close  of  the 
[283] 


284  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


sixteenth  century  it  had  been  deserted  for  a new  strong- 
hold in  the  city  of  Shimabara,  and  the  old  castle  had  fal- 
len into  neglect  and  ruin.  Situated  on  a high  and  narrow 
tongue  of  land  running  out  into  the  gulf,  its  position  was 
well-nigh  impregnable.  To  the  seaward,  the  towering 
perpendicular  cliffs  made  access  from  that  quarter  impos- 
sible ; while  landward,  on  either  side,  were  abrupt  bluffs 
falling  off  into  almost  impassable  marshes.  The  only 
possible  way  of  approach  to  the  fortress  was  over  a fan- 
shaped ridge  of  land  having  its  narrowest  part  resting 
against  the  castle  walls.  Across  this  neck  of  land,  that 
gradually  widened  until  it  opened  out  into  the  plain, 
the  Christians,  when  they  repaired  the  castle  for  their 
own  occupancy,  had  constructed  an  outer  line  of  defense. 
This  consisted  of  a deep  fosse  that  cut  across  the  ridge 
from  side  to  side,  having  on  the  brink  nearest  the  castle 
a strong  wall  of  earth  and  stone.  The  open  space  between 
this  outer  fortification  and  the  walls  of  the  castle  proper 
was  occupied  by  the  camp  of  the  Christian  army,  the 
women  and  children  having  been  already  removed,  for 
greater  safety,  to  the  interior  of  the  fortress. 

During  the  first  few  weeks  following  the  events  narra- 
ted in  the  last  book,  a number  of  engagements  occurred 
between  the  Christians  and  the  government  troops,  in 
which  the  insurgents  invariably  succeeded  in  repulsing 
the  assaults  of  their  foes.  Nevertheless,  they  found  it 
necessary  to  gradually  abandon  their  outposts  upon  the 
summits  of  the  foot-hills  and  also  on  the  adjacent  islands, 
so  that,  by  the  middle  of  December,  their  entire  force  was 
stationed  in  Hara  Castle  and  the  outer  fortifications, 
already  mentioned.  Shiro,  as  commander-in-chief  of  the 
Christian  forces,  had  general  supervision  of  their  move- 
ments, Paoli  acting  as  his  adviser.  The  army  was  divided 
into  four  divisions.  Of  one  of  these  Oyano  had  command 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  285 


and  the  others  were  placed  under  the  leadership  of 
three  chiefs — Ashizuka,  Chijiwa,  and  Komekine — all  of 
them  veteran  warriors,  who,  in  their  youth,  had  fought 
in  Korea  under  the  standard  of  Konishi,  the  famous 
Christian  general,  and,  later,  had  seen  him  overthrown  in 
the  bloody  battle  of  Sekigahara. 

Upon  the  part  of  the  government  troops,  no  efforts 
were  spared  to  suppress  the  insurrection.  A fleet  of  war- 
junks  was  prepared  to  cut  off  the  enemy’s  retreat  by  sea, 
and  a permanent  camp  for  the  large  land  force  was  con- 
structed on  the  heights  commanding  the  plain  of  the 
Christians.  The  Spuyten  Duyvil , after  discharging  her 
cargo  at  Hirado,  had  set  sail  for  Arima,  but  a furious 
storm  had  driven  her  far  out  to  sea,  and  when  she  put 
back,  it  was  in  such  a shattered  condition  that  Van  Neist 
was  compelled  to  run  into  Nagasaki  harbor  for  repairs. 
The  Dutch  factory  at  Hirado  had  loaned  a dozen  or  more 
foreign  cannon,  and  these  Itakura  had  mounted  on  rude 
carts  to  serve  as  field-pieces.  The  army  was  constantly 
receiving  re-inforcements,  and  by  the  middle  of  Decem- 
ber, all  the  princes  of  Kiushiu,  either  in  person  or  by 
deputy,  had  reported  themselves  at  Arima ; and  the 
number  of  the  troops  encamped  along  the  base  of  Unzen 
was,  it  is  said,  fully  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand 
fighting  men. 

In  a council  of  war,  called  by  General  Itakura  on  the 
twenty-fourth  of  December,  it  was  decided  to  storm  the 
Christian  stronghold  the  coming  night,  and  the  day  was 
spent  in  preparation  for  the  assault.  Alone  among  the 
leaders,  Nabeshima  opposed  the  plan  of  a night  attack  on 
the  ground  of  the  impossibility  of  surprising  so  vigilant 
a foe  as  the  Christians  had  proved  themselves  to  be  ; but 
when  the  other  generals  unanimously  favored  an  attempt, 
none  labored  with  more  tireless  energy  for  the  success  of 


286  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  undertaking  than  did  he.  Riding  out  of  the  camp  in 
the  early  afternoon,  he  approached  as  near  to  the  hostile 
defenses  as  was  possible,  and  made  a careful  reconnais- 
sance of  the  ground.  Upon  his  return,  he  summoned  his 
captains,  and  gave  orders  for  the  preparation  of  a portable 
bridge.  Night  came,  and  with  it  a storm  of  freezing 
rain,  mingled  with  snow  and  hail. 

“ Have  the  soldiers  bind  waraji*  upon  their  feet,”  he 
commanded,  as  he  forecast  the  icy  condition  in  which 
they  would  likely  find  the  hill-sides  leading  to  the  defenses 
of  the  foe. 

^Shortly  after  midnight  the  orders  came  for  the  storm- 
ing army  to  move  upon  the  Christians.  Kuroda,  Arima, 
Ogasawara,  Nabeshima,  Tachibana,  Hosokawa — such 
was  the  order  in  which  the  chieftains  were  told  off, — and 
in  that  order  they  led  forth  their  several  divisions  to  the 
attack. 

“ Strong  and  steady,  men  of  Kai  ! Spears  first  and 
swords  when  I draw  mine?”  cried  the  prince  to  his  fol- 
lowers, as,  with  unhelmed  brow,  he  passed  along  the  line, 
and  in  a minute  more  they  were  in  motion. 

Down  the  hill-side,  under  trees  dripping  from  the 
storm,  across  the  plain  of  the  Christians  and  over  their 
deserted  fortifications,  Nabeshima  and  the  eighteen  hun- 
dred fearless  souls  behind  him  marched  on.  Before 
them,  the  van  of  the  long  black  line  had  already  reached 
the  ridge  leading  to  the  outer  defenses  of  the  foe.  Behind 
them,  Hosokawa  was  but  issuing  from  the  camp. 

Then  sharp  and  shrill,  above  the  roar  of  the  wind  and 
the  sea  and  the  rattle  of  the  hail  upon  their  armor,  rose  a 
human  voice.  Then  another  and  another,  until  the  sound 
broke  into  one  loud  and  constant  scream,  pealing  from 


* Straw  sandals. 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  287 

hundreds  of  throats.  A cry  of  surprise  and  anger  burst 
from  the  whole  army,  and  far  away  upon  the  heights, 
the  tens  of  thousands  still  in  camp  strained  their  eyes 
through  the  darkness  in  breathless  amazement  at  the 
sound.  Itakura,  grinding  his  teeth  in  fury,  cursed,  in  the 
name  of  Buddha  and  all  the  gods  of  Japan,  the  unhappy 
wretches  whose  terrified  shrieks  had  betrayed  the  ap- 
proach of  his  troops  to  those  within  the  castle. 

Along  the  line  of  the  storming  army  confusion  soon 
ensued.  “The  Christians  are  out  and  are  attacking 
Kuroda!  Forward  to  the  rescue!”  came  the  cry,  and 
the  rear  divisions  dashed  madly  forward  on  those  ahead, 
rendering  more  hopeless  and  terrible  the  disorder  in 
front.  At  last  the  truth  became  known  : “ Beware  ! The 
ridge  is  covered  with  ice  ; the  men  are  falling  down  into 
the  marshes  by  the  score  !” 

The  warning  sped  from  mouth  to  mouth  back  along 
the  entire  line.  But  it  came  too  late  to  save  hundreds. 
Of  Kuroda’s  division,  more  than  half  were  struggling  in 
the  miry  marshes  that  flanked  the  ridge  on  either  side. 
The  remainder — a demoralized  rout — were  now  dashed 
into  the  moat  before  the  Christians’  defenses  by  such  of 
Arima’s  panic-stricken  troops  as  had  effected  the  passage 
in  safety. 

Those  that  followed  came  on  in  a more  soldier-like 
order.  Ogasawara,  at  the  head  of  three  thousand  Sat- 
suma  men,  the  flower  of  the  entire  army,  reached  the  fatal 
ridge,  but  with  proud  and  stately  step  the  veteran  troops 
marched  steadily  on,  and,  as  man  after  man  lost  his  foot- 
ing and  plunged  down  the  treacherous  slope,  no  sound, 
save  a muffled  groan,  escaped  his  lips  as  he  disappeared 
in  the  black  depths  below. 

And  after  Ogasawara  followed  the  Prince  of  Kai  ; none 
more  brave  and  daring  than  he,  none  more  considerate  of 


288  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  dangers  to  which  he  exposed  the  lives  of  faithful  fol- 
lowers. 

“ Lean  upon  your  spear-points,  my  heroes,  slow  and 
steady  !”  rang  out  his  manly  voice,  in  command  to  his  re- 
tainers. The  men  thrust  their  spears  into  the  ice-covered 
ground,  and  this  precaution,  with  the  help  of  the  straw 
sandals  they  wore,  kept  their  feet  from  slipping.  They 
had  not,  however,  reached  the  narrowest  and  most  dan- 
gerous part  of  the  ridge,  when  a number  of  fires  flamed 
up  on  the  fortifications  ahead,  and  Paoli’s  form,  huge  and 
shadowy,  was  seen  standing  erect  on  the  summit  of  the 
wall.  Nabeshima  was  unable  to  hear  his  words,  but  he 
saw  his  ax  circling  about  his  head  and  he  could  easily 
imagine  the  meaning  of  his  address  to  the  Christians 
below. 

“That  Jesuit  again,  curse  him!  Oh,  that  I may  be 
brought  face  to  face  with  him  to-night  !”  muttered  the 
young  leader  through  his  clenched  teeth.  “ Men  of  Kai  !” 
he  shouted  to  the  dusky  line  behind  him  ; “ behold  the 
slayer  of  your  comrades  at  Higashi-yama  ! Let  him  not 
escape  our  vengeance — ye  gods  !” 

The  last  exclamation  was  called  forth  by  the  cloud 
of  arrows  which  the  Christians  discharged  against  their 
foes  and  which  for  an  instant  darkened  the  light  of  the 
fires.  In  the  present  storm  of  mingled  rain  and  hail,  fire- 
arms were  useless.  Bow  and  spear,  and,  above  all,  the 
terrible  two-handled  sword  must  be  this  night  the  weapons 
of  defense  and  slaughter. 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


289 


II. 

TAKABOKA  IS  AVENGED 

Paoli  was  still  upon  the  wall,  and,  as  he  perceived  the 
havoc  the  Christian  bowmen’s  first  discharge  had  wrought 
among  the  foe.  he  called  for  another. 

“Nobly  done,  Sons  of  the  Church  ! Down  before  your 
death-shafts  like  grain  before  the  reaper  sink  the  enemies 
of  our  faith  ! Again,  stout  archers  ! Strong  arms,  steady 
hands,  let  fly  !”  And  once  more  came  the  shrill  hiss  of 
arrows,  and  through  breastplate  and  helmet  pierced  the 
merciless  iron  bolts.  A muffled  groan  of  dying  men,  like 
the  hollow  boom  of  the  surf  on  the  rocks,  came  across 
the  moat  to  the  ears  of  the  Christians. 

“ Down  with  bow  and  spear,  throw  wide  open  the  gates, 
and  upon  the  infidel  with  the  edge  of  the  sword  !”  shouted 
the  warrior-bishop,  himself  the  first  one  to  leap  down 
upon  the  causeway  that  led  across  the  moat  from  the  great 
gate  of  the  fort. 

The  few  surviving  soldiers  of  Kuroda’s  division,  as  they 
beheld  the  dreaded  Jesuit  dashing  upon  them,  fled  right 
and  left.  Their  leader  finding  himself  deserted  by  his 
followers,  sprang  forward  to  meet  Paoli,  his  long  spear 
leveled  at  the  throat  of  the  oncoming  foe.  One  swift, 
sweeping  blow,  and  the  spear  was  hewn  in  twain  ; a fierce 
cry  of  “ Yaso- Maria  !"  another  terrible  stroke,  and  the  ax 
that  splintered  the  spear  cleaved  the  infidel,  helm  and 
head. 

At  that  moment  the  gates  flew  wide  open,  and  with 
their  thrilling  war-cry,  “ Yaso-Maria,  Takaboka  and  ven- 
gence !”  the  Christians  poured  forth.  Deep  into  the 
midst  of  Arima’s  men,  Paoli  plunged,  and  close  after 


290  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


him  followed  the  dauntless  Ashizuka.  As  quickly  as 
room  could  be  made  in  the  level  space  before  the  walls, 
it  was  filled  with  Christian  warriors.  Arima,  at  whose 
suggestion  the  ill-starred  attack  had  been  made,  strove 
nobly  to  stay  the  tide  of  disaster,  and  to  drive  the  insur- 
gents to  the  shelter  of  their  walls.  Around  him  rallied 
his  devoted  clansmen,  and  before  the  fury  of  their 
assault,  the  insurgents  were  hurled  back  almost  to  the 
brink  of  the  moat. 

“Arima!  Arima!”  rose  the  shout  of  the  infidel; 
“ Paoli  ! Paoli  !”  the  rallying  cry  of  the  Christians. 

For  an  instant  the  Jesuit’s  blazing  eye  swept  the  dismal 
scene  of  storm  and  carnage  ; then,  with  a loud  call  to 
Ashizuka  to  follow  with  his  warriors  where  he  led,  he 
threw  himself  into  the  thickest  of  the  fray.  High  in  air 
wheeled  the  bloody  ax  ; each  time  it  fell,  a foeman  sank 
to  the  earth.  Against  the  stout  cuirass  of  Spanish  steel 
clanged  hostile  spear  and  arrow  ; but  vain  was  the  thrust 
of  the  one,  vain  the  quick,  hurtling  blow  of  the  other. 
On,  on  to  Arima’s  side,  Paoli  hewed  his  way,  paving  his 
path  with  the  slain.  The  Japanese  general  looked  up  in 
time  to  see  his  chief  captain  sink  beneath  that  invincible 
ax.  Then  the  fierce  laugh  and  the  defying  voice  of  the 
haughty  Samurai  rang  out  above  the  thunder  of  the  con- 
flict : 

“ Ho,  barbarian  ! thinkest  thou  Arima  quails  before 
thee  ? Dog  of  a Christian  ! mine  shall  be  the  price  set 
on  thy  accursed  head  !”  and  swinging  with  both  hands 
his  long,  ponderous  sword,  he  rushed  upon  the  Jesuit. 
Calm  and  terrible  stood  Paoli,  his  ax  poised  aloft,  his  left 
foot  planted  firmly  forward,  ready  for  advance  or  retreat  ; 
his  blazing  eyes  watchful  ; every  muscle  nerved  to  the 
utmost.  Forward  bounded  Arima  ; high  in  the  air  flashed 
his  sword  ; down  with  lightening  speed  it  swept,  down 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  291 


to  be  buried  deep — in  the  earth  ! For  swifter  than 
Arima’s  stroke  was  Paoli’s  leap  aside,  and,  as  his  enemy 
bowed  forward  from  the  force  of  his  own  blow,  down 
flashed  the  ax  upon  his  neck,  and  the  headless  trunk  fell 
at  the  feet  of  the  victor. 

The  death  of  the  chief  created  a panic  among  his  fol- 
lowers. Backward  they  surged,  with  feeble  efforts  at 
defense  ; then  broke  and  fled.  Behind  them,  Ogasawara 
had  drawn  up  his  veterans  in  battle  array,  and  was  calmly 
awaiting  the  onset  of  the  Christians.  Right  into  these 
motionless  columns  dashed  the  terrified  fugitives  from  the 
front.  The  ranks  were  disordered  and  broken  ; wide  gaps 
yawned  along  the  line.  Into  one  of  these  plunged  the  ax 
of  Paoli  ; into  others,  the  merciless  swords  of  Ashizuka 
and  his  followers.  What  availed  then  the  dauntless 
valor  of  the  veteran,  or  the  prestige  of  the  name  of 
Satsuma  ! With  incredible  swiftness  the  disordered 
columns  were  hurled  back  upon  the  fatal  ridge.  Ice 
beneath  their  feet,  the  foemen's  weapons  above  their 
heads  ; down  plunged  hundreds  into  the  dark  and  miry 
marsnes. 

“ My  arm  grows  weary  !”  roared  Paoli  to  Ashizuka. 
“The  handle  of  my  ax  is  slippery  with  blood.  Yaso- 
Maria!  Down  with  the  infidel  !” 

“ Yaso-Maria  ! Takaboka  and  vengeance  !”  rose  afresh 
the  fierce  chorus  of  the  Christians  above  the  howling  of 
the  storm  and  the  sickening  sound  of  blows  and  groans. 

Swept  back  finally  over  the  ridge  and  out  upon  the 
plain,  the  Satsuma  men  turned  and  fled.  Tachibanaand 
Hosokawa  ordered  their  troops  to  open  their  ranks  to  let 
the  retreating  warriors  escape  to  the  rear  ; then  again 
they  closed  and  presented  a firm  front  to  the  victorious 
foe  that,  mad  with  the  fury  of  battle,  was  rushing  upon 
them. 


292  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ Ho,  avengers  of  Takaboka  !”  shouted  Paoli.  “Be- 
hold the  dragon  banner  of  Hosokawa,  the  pitiless  mur- 
derer of  our  brethren  at  the  foreign  ship,  and  of  the 
women  and  children  on  Takaboka !”  and  the  bishop 
pointed  with  his  ax  in  the  direction  of  that  leader’s 
forces  that  loomed  up  dimly  in  the  light  shed  through 
the  storm  from  the  distant  fires.  “ Ho,  swords  of  the 
church,  warriors  of  the  cross  ! Upon  them  and  spare 
not  ! Forward  ! I see  the  fleshless  hands  of  our  mur- 
dered brethren  beckoning  us  onward.  The  spirits  of  the 
women  slaughtered  on  Takaboka  wheel  in  the  air  above 
their  butchers.  Forward  ! Saints  and  angels  are  our 
shields  in  this  holy  war.  On  ! on  !” 

The  effect  of  Paoli’s  words  was  indescribable.  A mad 
roar  went  up  from  the  Christian  host  about  him.  Back 
across  the  ridge,  through  the  gate  of  the  fort,  and  even 
into  the  castle  sped  the  tidings:  “ The  Takaboka  mur- 
derers are  on  the  plain  !”  Forth  rushed  Chijiwa  and 
his  warriors;  forth  poured  the  followers  of  Oyano.  Over 
the  ridge,  with  scores  plunging  down  on  either  side,  for 
the  ice  was  as  treacherous  to  Christian  foot  as  it  had 
been  to  infidel,  into  the  open  plain  they  dashed.  How 
it  happened  no  one  knew,  but  before  he  was  aware,  Ho- 
sokawa found  himself  entrapped.  Between  him  and  the 
camp,  the  soldiers  of  Oyano  ; between  him  and  Tachi- 
bana,  Chijiwa’s  warriors  ; on  his  left,  the  marsh  and  the 
sea  ; before  him,  the  ax  of  Paoli. 

Grim  and  terrible  was  the  struggle  that  ensued. 
Around  the  devoted  Samurai  closed  the  dense  circle  of 
infuriated  Christians.  Awful  to  the  bravest  ear  rose  the 
mingled  chorus  of  their  cries  : “ Fight  for  your  lives  ! 
Remember  Takaboka  and  perish  ! Vengeance  ! Ven- 
geance !”  More  furiously  than  ever  they  threw  them- 
selves upon  the  enemy.  The  carnage  was  frightful.  The 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  293 


infidel  fell  with  a curse  of  defiance  ; the  Christian  with 
a prayer  to  his  saints.  In  equal  numbers  they  seemed 
to  go  down  ; but  for  every  avenger  that  fell,  another 
rose  in  his  place.  Alas  ! for  the  doomed  Samurai!  As 
the  heap  of  their  dead  grew  higher,  the  gaps  in  their 
ranks  remained  unfilled.  At  the  foot  of  his  dragon 
standard  stood  the  heroic  Hosokawa,  and  around  him 
his  warriors,  giving  thrust  for  thrust  and  blow  for  blow. 
They  fell  where  they  stood,  their  chieftain  the  last  of  all, 
and  his  dragon  streamer,  flapping  and  shrieking  in  the 
storm,  sank  down  on  the  ghastly  ring  of  the  dead. 

Terribly  indeed  had  Takaboka  been  avenged. 


III. 

THE  RIVALS  MEET. 

Where  were  Nabeshima  and  the  men  of  Kai  ? 

While  Ogasawara’s  forces  were  yet  drawn  up  and 
awaiting  the  coming  of  the  Christians,  a dusky  line  stole 
past  them  and  disappeared  in  the  darkness  that  con- 
cealed the  extreme  southern  end  of  the  fortifications. 
Here  it  paused  and  waited. 

From  the  shadow  of  the  defenses  that  covered  them, 
the  men  of  Kai  looked  out  on  the  conflict  raging  before 
the  gates  of  the  fort.  They  saw  Ogasawara’s  troops 
driven  back  over  the  ridge,  and  beheld  the  Christians,  in 
heavy  columns,  pouring  out  from  behind  their  walls. 
Ashizuka’s  division  was  already  on  the  plain,  and  now 
came  Chijiwa,  and  now  Oyano.  Nabeshima’s  eagle  eye  had 
been  watching  for  his  opportunity  ; it  had  come.  Only 
a few  thousands  had  remained  within  the  fortress.  A 
quick  dash,  and  the  fort,  nay,  even  the  castle  itself  might 


294  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


be  his.  And  then,  with  the  prisoners,  for  a time  at  least, 
in  the  keeping  of  his  own  retainers,  the  dearest  object  of 
all  these  tireless  labors  of  his — the  salvation  of  Ine 
Tanaka — would  be  attained.  Nabeshima’s  heart  beat 
tumultuously  at  the  thought.  With  the  rattle  of  the 
hail  upon  his  armor,  the  roar  of  wind  and  war  in  his  ears, 
and  the  prospect  of  a conflict,  fierce  and  bloody,  before 
him,  the  time  and  place  seemed  unsuitable  for  senti- 
mental musings  ; yet  the  warrior’s  pulse  quickened  at 
the  thought  that  there,  in  the  castle  before  him,  was  the 
woman  he  loved.  But  there,  too,  was  the  man  who 
stood  between  him  and  her,  and  then  his  handsome  face 
darkened,  and  a terrible  look  came  into  his  eyes.  War 
was  now  in  his  heart,  and  out-rang  his  princely  voice  to 
the  men  about  him  : 

“ Forward  with  the  bridge  ! Honor  and  promotion  to 
the  man  who  is  the  first  to  follow  me  over  the  defenses  !” 

Upon  the  shoulders  of  stout  warriors,  the  bridge  was 
rapidly  borne  to  the  front  and  flung  across  the  moat.  A 
minute  more,  and  the  prince  stood  on  the  top  of  the 
wall;  another,  and  he  had  bounded  into  the  fort;  an- 
other, and  he  was  surrounded  by  his  warriors,  while  over 
the  wall  poured  a steady  line  of  shadowy  forms.  Un- 
suspecting an  attack  from  that  quarter,  the  Christians 
were  unconscious  of  their  danger.  Not  until  all  the  men 
of  Kai  were  within  the  fort,  not  until  they  had  fired 
some  sheds  filled  with  straw  and  charcoal,  did  the  Chris- 
tians perceive  the  foe.  High  up  on  the  castle  walls,  a 
woman’s  voice  rose  above  the  tumult  and  gave  the  alarm. 
Nabeshima  heard  the  warning  cry  ; lie  recognized  the 
voice,  and,  in  the  light  from  the  now  blazing  buildings, 
he  swept  the  sea  of  faces  on  the  ramparts  above  him  in 
the  hope  that  he  might  see  her  face  ; but  the  rain  beat 
into  his  eyes  and  blinded  him. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  t he  Missionaries.  295 


“ Forward,  men  of  Kai  !”  he  shouted  to  his  retainers, 
his  voice  thrilling  with  the  vision  of  victory  just  before 
him.  “ Nabeshima  to  the  onslaught ! Yaso-taiji !”* 

With  a dash  they  were  upon  the  insurgents,  who,  some 
three  thousand  strong,  under  the  leadership  of  Shiro, 
now  heroically  threw  themselves  betwreen  the  men  of  Kai 
and  the  gates  of  the  main  castle.  Fast  and  furious  fell 
the  blows  of  the  opposing  swords  as  Christian  and  infi- 
del clashed  together.  “ Yaso- Maria !”  rose  the  battle- 
shout  of  the  one  ; “ Yaso-taiji !"  the  war  cry  of  the  other. 

In  the  van  of  his  warriors,  Nabeshima  led  the  way  to 
the  castle  gates,  and  despite  their  most  gallant  resistance, 
Shiro  and  his  soldiers  were  slowly  driven  back.  The 
young  Christian  leader’s  gaze,  too,  turned  to  the  frown- 
ing battlements  above  him,  and  eyes,  that  recked  not  for 
the  longing  look  of  the  prince,  beheld  the  upturned  face 
of  Nirado  Shiro.  A white  flag  wras  waved  from  the  top 
of  the  wall,  and  the  face  of  Ine  Tanaka  shone  out  on  the 
man  she  loved.  But  another  eye  saw  her,  another  eye 
beheld  Shiro,  in  answer  to  her  salute,  wave  his  mailed 
hand  to  the  maiden.  The  Prince  of  Kai  leaped  through 
the  press,  cutting  dowm  all  who  opposed  him  until  he 
reached  the  Christian  chief. 

“ Nirado  Shiro  !”  he  cried  “ again  we  meet  ; this  time 
on  the  field  of  honorable  battle  ! In  the  presence  of  the 
woman  wrho  loves  you  and  in  the  sight  of  both  armies, 
make  good  thy  boast  that  thou  fearest  not  the  Prince  of 
Kai  !” 

In  obedience  to  a gesture  of  their  leader’s  hand,  the 
men  of  Kai  fell  back  from  the  furious  onset  that  had 
borne  them  almost  to  the  castle  gates.  A cry  for  the 
cessation  of  hostilities  ran  along  the  line  ; and  the  Chris- 


* Down  with  the  Christians. 


296  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


tian  soldiers  in  amazement  involuntarily  followed  the 
example  of  their  foes,  and  likewise  retreated  a few  paces 
from  the  place  where  they  had  been  standing.  An  open 
space  was  thus  formed  between  the  infidel  and  the 
Christians,  and  here  stood  Shiro  and  Nabeshima. 

The  young  chief  of  the  insurgents  was  no  mean  match 
for  the  prince.  Shorter  in  stature  and  slighter  in  figure 
than  Lord  Nabeshima,  he,  nevertheless,  was  quick  of 
movement  and  well  trained.  During  his  long  residence 
at  Manila,  the  best  instructors  in  both  Western  and 
Oriental  military  tactics  had  been  procured  for  him  ; but 
in  nothing  did  he  prove  himself  a true  son  of  Japan 
more  than  in  his  love  for  the  keen-edged,  two-handed 
sword  of  his  nation,  and  he  became  exceedingly  skillful 
in  its  use.  Thus,  while  in  physical  prowess  the  advan- 
tage was  on  the  side  of  the  prince,  Shiro’s  greater  adroit- 
ness in  the  management  of  his  weapon  made  the  two 
combatants  about  equal. 

“Thou  speakest,  Prince  Nabeshima,  as  if  it  were  ne- 
cessary to  urge  me  to  fight,”  said  the  Christian  chief  with 
a haughty  dignity.  “ That  night  on  Unzen  I told  thee 
to  thy  face  I feared  thee  not.  Again  we  meet,  and  once 
again  I say  : I fear  thee  not.  As  I was  ready  then  to 
cross  swords  in  mortal  combat,  so  stand  I ready  now. 
Guard  for  thy  life,  Prince  ! God  and  Holy  Cross  !” 

With  his  last  words,  Shiro  swung  up  his  sword  and 
poised  it  above  his  head.  Nabeshima’s  blade  also  flashed 
aloft,  but  as  he  raised  it,  the  prince’s  eyes  were  lifted  to 
the  wall  on  which  he  had  seen  Ine  Tanaka.  As  he  did 
so,  there  came  the  sharp  hiss  of  a flying  arrow,  and  full 
on  the  upturned  forehead  of  the  Lord  of  Kai  fell  the 
descending  bolt.  The  sword  dropped  from  the  hand  of 
the  stricken  prince  ; he  reeled  for  a moment,  as  if  in  an 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  29  7 


effort  to  recover  himself,  then,  tossing  up  his  arms  wildly, 
he  fell  heavily  at  the  feet  of  his  foe. 

A cry  of  rage  broke  from  the  ranks  of  Nabeshima’s  men, 
and  with  drawn  swords,  they  rushed  forward  to  rescue 
the  body  of  their  lord,  and  to  avenge  his  fall.  But  Shiro, 
dropping  his  own  weapon  stretched  out  his  arms  : 

“ Hold,  men  of  Kai  !”  he  shouted.  “ Stay  your  hands  ! 
We  fear  your  swords  less  than  your  scorn.  Know  ye 
that  whoever  shot  that  dastard  shaft  shall  be  punished  ! 
I swear  it  in  the  name  of  the  God  in  whom  I trust.  Man 
to  man  and  sword  to  sword,  your  leader  and  I stood  here 
ready  for  honorable  combat.  Accursed  be  the  treacher- 
ous hand  that  smote  down  my  noble  foe  ! Hear  ye,  fol- 
lowers of  this  chivalrous  lord  ! Once  my  friends  and  I 
were  in  your  master’s  power.  With  the  generosity  that 
has  made  the  name  of  Nabeshima  illustrious  throughout 
our  nation,  he  forebore  to  do  us  harm,  though  I,  ignorant 
of  who  he  was,  insultingly  defied  him.  My  friends  he 
conducted  in  safety  to  our  lines.  Men  of  Kai  ! permit 
me  to-night  to  repay  that  courtesy  ! Take  your  lord, 
and,  unmolested,  bear  him  to  his  camp.” 

A confused  murmur  arose  among  Nabeshima’s  follow- 
ers. Some  were  in  favor  of  accepting  Shiro’s  offer,  others, 
it  was  clear  to  see,  were  for  a bloody  reprisal  upon  the 
Christians.  While  they  were  discussing  the  matter,  the 
young  rnan  knelt  by  the  side  of  his  prostrate  foe, 
and,  unlacing  his  armor,  thrust  his  hand  into  his  breast 
The  heart  was  still  feebly  beating,  and,  even  as  he  looked, 
he  saw  the  color  beginning  to  return  to  the  pallid  face. 
By  the  side  of  the  fallen  man  lay  the  treacherous  arrow. 
The  point  had  been  entirely  cut  away  with  a knife,  so 
that  the  head  was  but  a broad  disk  ; a shape  well  calcu- 
lated to  stun  without  inflicting  a mortal  wound,  and  this 
evidently,  had  been  the  purpose  of  the  one  who  shot  the 


298  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


bolt.  Thrusting  the  shaft  into  his  sword  belt,  Shiro  rose 
to  his  feet. 

“Your  master  lives,  he  is  even  now  recovering;”  he 
cried  to  the  still  debating  men.  “ What  say  ye  ? Is  it 
peace,  or  is  it  war?  Hear  ye  that  sound  ? The  forces  in 
the  field  are  returning.  Ye  may  avenge  your  master  ; ye 
may  sell  your  lives  dearly,  but  his  life  and  the  lives  of 
yourselves  shall  pay  the  forfeit.  Stay  here  and  ye  are 
doomed  ! Again  do  I tell  you,  the  hand  that  struck 
down  the  Lord  of  Kai  shall  know  my  vengeance  !” 

As  he  spoke,  Shiro  glanced  upward,  and  his  eyes  rested 
on  Ine.  She  had  arisen  to  her  feet ; her  face  was  deathly 
pale,  and,  as  she  saw  the  upturned  countenance  of  her 
lover,  she  stretched  forth  her  arms  wildly  toward  him 
with  a look  of  unspeakable  anguish  and  piteous  pleading. 
Then,  even  as  he  gazed,  she  fell  back  swooning  into  the 
arms  of  the  women  about  her,  and  with  a horror-stricken 
face  the  young  man  bowed  his  proud  head. 

He  knew  whose  hand  had  sped  the  bolt. 

“We  accept  thy  generous  offer,”  said  the  captain  of 
Nabeshima’s  body-guard,  approaching  the  Christian 
chief.  “ The  life  of  our  prince  is  dearer  to  us  than  our 
own,  dearer  to  us  than  even  our  thirst  for  revenge  for 
that  cowardly  blow.  We  trust  you  to  punish  the  wrong- 
doer, even  as  you  have  sworn.” 

“ You  had  your  choice,  peace  or  war,"  Shiro  responded, 
and  his  voice  sounded  hollow  and  strange  to  his  own 
ears.  “On  another  day,  may  the  God  of  battles  again 
bring  Nabeshima  and  me  face  to  face  ! Go,  Obata,”  he 
continued,  addressing  that  warrior,  “and  in  my  name 
give  the  men  of  Kai  a safe  conduct  through  our  lines.” 
And  thus  the  courtesy  that  Nabeshima  had  shown  six 
weeks  before  at  the  hermitage  of  Unzen  was  repaid. 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  299 


Out  upon  the  plain  the  conflict  was  still  raging.  Itak- 
ura,  upon  hearing  of  the  disaster  that  had  befallen  the 
storming  army,  had  promptly  sent  down  heavy  re-in- 
forcements,  and  the  Christians  were  slowly  driven  back  to 
the  castle.  The  retreat,  however,  was  made  in  perfectly 
good  order,  the  ridge  was  crossed,  and,  while  Paoli  and 
Ashizuka  held  the  government  troops  in  check,  the  other 
divisions  of  the  army  filed  through  the  gates  into  the 
fort,  amid  the  tumultuous  applause  of  the  thousands  on 
the  walls  and  within  the  castle.  Finally  Ashizuka's  war- 
riors also  retired  to  the  shelter  of  the  defenses,  their 
leader  and  the  bishop  being  the  last  to  disappear  within 
the  gates,  which  closed  with  a heavy  clang  in  the  face  of 
the  foe,  whom  a tempest  of  stones  and  arrows  from  the 
top  of  the  defenses  swept  back  in  confusion.  Another 
dash  upon  the  Christians’  fortifications,  another  repulse, 
and  the  government  troops  sullenly  withdrew.  Paoli 
mounted  the  wall  at  the  place  where  he  had  stood  to  give 
the  signal  for  attack  ; and  he  gazed  with  a long  and  tri- 
umphant look  upon  the  dusky  columns  of  the  foe  sweep- 
ing across  the  plain  in  the  direction  of  the  heights. 

The  storm  had  broken  away.  The  rain  and  hail  no 
longer  fell,  but  the  wind  still  blew  in  fierce  and  frequent 
blasts.  The  clouds  had  lifted  from  the  eastern  horizon, 
and  above  the  tossing  waters  of  the  gulf  and  over  the  dis- 
tant range  of  the  Higo  mountains,  the  first  faint  beams  of 
Christmas  morn  mounted  into  the  cold  and  wintry  sky. 
Over  the  field  of  blood,  before  the  walls  of  Hara  Castle, 
stole  the  morning’s  timid  light,  as  if  fearing  to  reveal  to 
the  eyes  of  men  the  ghastly  wreck  of  war. 

“ Never  before  in  the  history  of  our  Japan,”  say  the  na- 
tive historians,  “ had  the  Samurai  suffered  so  terrible  a 
defeat  at  the  hands  of  yeomen.”  And  verily  the  Chris- 
tians had  cause  to  exult  over  their  victory.  Three  gen- 


300  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


erals,  seventy-eight  captains,  and  fourteen  thousand  sol- 
diers had  perished.  No  report  of  the  loss  of  the  Chris- 
tians has  come  down  to  us,  but  it  could  have  been  nothing 
more  than  a mere  fraction  of  that  of  the  government 
army,  because,  after  innumerable  skirmishes,  two  months 
later,  they  still  could  muster  twenty  thousand  fighting 
men. 


IV. 


YAMADA  THE  RONIN  AGAIN. 

After  the  great  battle  of  the  twenty-fifth  of  December, 
little  of  note  occurred  for  nearly  a month  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  the  siege.  A few  sorties  were  made  by  the 
Christians,  and  about  an  equal  number  of  assaults  were 
made  by  the  government  troops  on  the  outer  defenses  ; 
but  nothing  was  accomplished  by  either  side,  and  the 
loss  of  life  was  but  trifling. 

News  came  from  Yedo  that  the  Shogun  was  dissatisfied 
with  Itakura’s  conduct  of  affairs  at  Arima,  and  that  he 
had  severely  censured  him  in  making  the  fatal  night 
attack.  Still  later  came  the  report  that  Matsudaira,  a 
veteran  general  who  had  served  under  Iyeyasu  at 
Sekigahara,  had  received  the  Shogun’s  appointment  as 
general-in-chief  of  the  government  forces,  and  that  he 
was  then  on  his  way  to  Kiushiu  to  supersede  Itakura  in 
the  command  of  the  army.  Tne  latter,  therefore,  deter- 
mined to  exert  himself  to  the  utmost  to  subdue  the  insur- 
gents before  the  arrival  of  the  new  leader. 

Just  at  this  junction  of  affairs,  occurred  an  event  that 
promised  to  give  the  commander-in-chief  success  in  his 
undertaking.  One  evening  a scout  returned  to  the  camp 
bearing  an  arrow,  around  which  was  wound  a letter 


Paoli:  the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  301 

addressed  to  General  Itakura.  The  scout  said  that  it 
had  been  shot  from  within  the  Christians’  walls  and  had 
fallen  at  his  feet.  The  letter  was  as  follows  : 

“ My  name  is  Uyemon  Yamada,  and  I am  a native  of  Ishihaya. 
I was  a retainer  of  Prince  Kaneko,  whom  the  barbarian  priest  Paoli 
sank  with  a party  of  his  followers  in  the  entrance  to  Nagasaki  Bay, 
on  the  night  following  the  battle  at  the  foreign  ship.  1 learned  this 
from  one  of  the  senctos,  who  recognized  the  Jesuit,  and  who,  after 
the  capsizing  of  the  sampan , managed  to  swim  ashore.  I therefore 
became  a Ronin,  and  swore  to  avenge  my  lord’s  death  upon  the 
barbarian,  For  this  purpose,  1 pretended  to  be  a Christian  trades- 
man of  Ishihaya,  compelled  to  flee  for  my  faith  to  my  brethren  at 
Arima.  Among  the  rebels,  my  name  is  Kuroda.  Since  coming 
here,  I have  found  no  opportunity  for  carrying  out  the  purpose  that 
brought  me  hither,  for  the  Jesuit  is  ever  upon  his  guard.  But  I 
have  been  appointed  captain  of  the  gate-keepers,  and  it  is  in  my 
power  to  betray  the  castle  into  your  hands.  This  I shall  do  on  the 
condition  that  mine  be  the  office  of  executioner  of  the  foreign  priest, 
should  he  be  captured  alive,  and  that  the  reward  offered  for  his  head 
be  given  to  me.  If  there  be  any  Ishihaya  men  in  your  camp,  ques- 
tion them  concerning  me.  The  Prince  of  Kai  knows  me  as  the  one 
from  whose  vengeance  he  rescued  the  Englishman  on  the  night  of 
the  cross  ordeal,  and  whom  I hurled  from  the  Unzen  cliffs  above 
the  Obama  road  some  weeks  ago.  When  you  have  well  considered 
this  matter,  let  an  answer,  tied  to  an  arrow,  be  shot  over  the  wall 
into  the  quarter  where  Lord  Nabeshima  burned  the  store-houses 
On  the  night  of  the  attack,  and  I shall  receive  it.  I shall  give  direc- 
tions as  to  the  time  and  the  place  for  making  the  attack,  in  my 
reply.” 

Here  followed  the  date  and  the  seal.  The  news  that 
such  a letter  had  been  received  spread  like  wildfire 
through  the  camp,  and  caused  the  greatest  excitement. 
A few  Ishihaya  men  that  were  in  the  army  knew  Yama- 
da, and  were  aware  of  his  becoming  a Ronin,  and  vow- 
ing the  death  of  Paoli.  Nabeshima  was  questioned,  and 


302  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


he  corroborated  the  statements  in  the  letter  respecting 
the  Englishman.  Having  thus  satisfied  himself  that 
this  was  no  stratagem  of  the  Christians  to  draw  on  an 
attack,  in  order  to  lead  him  into  a trap,  Itakura,  the 
next  morning,  ordered  a reply  to  be  sent  to  the  Ronin,  in 
the  manner  in  which  he  had  directed,  agreeing  to  grant 
his  requests.  The  same  day  an  answer  was  returned, 
naming  the  coming  midnight  as  the  time  of  betrayal. 
With  this  letter  was  sent  a plan  of  the  castle,  and  direc- 
tions how  best  to  make  the  assault. 

The  remainder  of  the  day  was  spent  in  preparation  for 
what  Itakura  and  his  generals  were  convinced  was  to  be 
the  final  battle  in  the  siege  of  Hara  Castle. 

“ Great  Lord,”  said  the  captain  of  Nabeshima’s  body- 
guard to  his  master,  who  had  been  busily  engaged  in 
giving  orders  to  his  officers,  “ thou  wast  ever  a shrewd 
guesser  of  the  future.  What  sayest  thou  shall  be  our 
fortunes  to-night  ?” 

The  young  nobleman’s  face  was  grave  as  he  replied  : 
“To  conquer  a brave  enemy  through  the  treachery  of 
a spy  is  not  the  honor  a chivalrous  soldier  covets.” 

The  captain  was  not  certain  of  the  meaning  of  the  enig- 
matical reply.  He  turned  a keen  look  upon  the  prince. 
“Then  thou  sayest  that  we  shall  conquer?” 

“ How  can  we  fail  with  the  gates  wide  open  and  the 
Christians  not  suspecting  our  approach  ?” 

The  captain  cast  a quick  glance  around,  and  perceived 
that  the  officers  were  all  at  a distance.  “ My  Lord,”  he 
said  in  a low  voice,  “we  are  alone.  I would  speak  with 
thee.”  He  waited  for  permission  to  go  on. 

“Speak,  then!”  said  the  Lord  of  Kai,  a faint  smile 
lighting  up  his  somber  face.  Since  that  terrible  night 
before  the  walls  of  Hara  Castle,  the  prince  had  seemed 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  303 


a changed  man.  His  old-time  vivacity  was  gone,  and  in 
its  place  had  come  an  abstracted  and  melancholy  air  that 
with  his  haggard  face,  told  of  some  secret  sorrow  prey- 
ing upon  his  mind. 

Of  all  the  men  of  Kai,  the  captain  of  the  Prince’s  body- 
guard was  the  one  on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  the 
young  lord  ; and  on  subjects  concerning  which  others 
would  not  presume  to  speak  to  the  master,  he  could 
freely  talk. 

“ To-night,  my  liege,”  said  the  officer,  speaking  in  a 
low,  rapid  voice,  “ the  castle  falls  into  our  hands  ; to-night 
the  Christians  perish  by  the  sword.  Such  are  General 
Itakura’s  orders.  My  Lord,  what  of  the  one  who  struck 
you  down  with  her  arrow  that  night  when  you  and  the 
rebel  chieftain  stood  ready  for  conflict  ?” 

Prince  Nabeshima  started  violently,  and  thenshudder- 
ingly  averted  his  face.  After  a pause,  he  said  : 

“ Heardst  not  thou  the  words  of  Shiro  : that  the  hand 
that  drew  that  bow  should  be  punished  ?” 

“ My  Lord,  but  that  hand  was  the  hand  of  his  betrothed 
wife,  Ine  Tanaka,  the  woman  whom  you  long  ago  would 
have  made  Princess  of  Kai,  the  woman  you  saved  on 
Unzen  and  safely  conducted  to  her  fellow-rebels.  O 
Lord,  be  no  more  in  the  snare  of  that  sorceress,  lest  this 
time  a worse  fate  befall  thee.  Away  with  this  passion 
of  thine  for  one  who  would  have  slain  thee.  For  her 
crime  of  being  a Christian  and  for  her  treachery  to  thee, 
let  her  die  the  death  !”  And  the  captain  rushed  away, 
leaving  his  master  alone. 

With  a stifled  groan,  Prince  Nabeshima  staggered  into 
his  tent,  and,  sinking  upon  the  floor,  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands. 

“Alas!  it  is  true,  then.  My  eyes  did  not  deceive  me 


304  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


when  my  upward  glance  saw  the  bow  in  her  hands. 
Would  that  thine  arrow,  O woman  ! had  slain  me  ! Woe  ! 
Woe  !” 

Alas  ! indeed,  for  a love  so  noble,  so  devoted  and  so 
hopeless  as  was  Nabeshima’s  for  Ine  Tanaka. 


FULL  ON  THE  UPTURNED  FOREHEAD  OF  THE  LORD  OF  KAI  FELL  THE  DESCENDING  BOLT.— 


See  Page  296. 


BOOK  NINTH. 


HOW  NIKADO  SHIRO  KEPT  HIS  VOW. 

I. 


GATHERING  SHADOWS. 


O the  increasingly  large  number  of 
women  in  Hara  Castle,  who  from 
day  to  day  were  called  upon  to 
mourn  the  loss  of  dear  ones  who 
went  out  to  battle  and  never 
again  returned,  Ine  Tanaka  had 
become  an  angel  of  consolation.  In  the  hospital  w'here 
the  wounded  lay  tossing  in  feverish  pain,  no  hand  was 
so  gentle  and  soothing,  no  voice  so  tenderly  sympathetic 
as  hers.  Wherever  she  went, — and  she  was  a frequent 
visitor  to  every  part  of  the  castle, — her  presence  was  like 
a heavenly  benediction. 


308  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries . 


And  no  one  called  forth  so  much  affectionate  esteem 
as  she.  The  people  loved  their  bishop,  it  was  true,  but 
in  these  dark  days,  when  they  beheld  him  in  his  suit  of 
mail,  with  the  terrible  battle-ax  by  his  side,  stalking  like 
a messenger  of  death  among  them,  his  burning  eyes 
flaming  with  a baleful  light,  and  his  countenance  fierce 
and  fearful,  the  little  children  hushed  their  voices  as  he 
passed  by,  and  the  women  shook  their  heads  sadly. 

“Ah,  the  good  bishop  is  not  what  he  used  to  be  !”  they 
would  say.  “ Alas,  that  so  great  a change  should  come.” 

The  soldiers,  likewise,  looked  upon  him  with  awe,  as 
well  they  might  ; for  no  score  of  warriors  among  them 
had  carried  such  destruction  into  the  midst  of  the  foe  as 
had  his  single  arm.  But  all  classes  alike  had  come  to 
regard  him  less  as  a religious  teacher  and  more  as  a mil- 
itary leader. 

And  in  some  such  way  did  Paoli  now  consider  himself. 
The  public  devotional  services  fell  more  and  more  into 
the  hands  of  the  native  priests  ; less  and  less  did  the 
bishop  appear  in  the  chapel,  and  more  constantly  was  he 
to  be  found  either  in  conference  with  the  generals  or 
moodily  pacing  back  and  forth  in  the  solitude  of  his  own 
quarters.  All  this  tended  to  make  both  old  and  young 
look  upon  him  with  an  overwhelming  sense  of  awe  not 
unmixed  with  fear. 

Shiro  failed  to  gain  the  affections  of  the  people.  Just 
why,  no  one  was  able  to  say.  Ever  since  his  birth,  the 
Church  of  Japan  had  been  taught  that  he  was  the  divine- 
ly appointed  leader  that  was  to  bring  God’s  people  out 
of  the  Egypt  of  their  oppression  into  the  promised  land 
of  peace  and  freedom.  For  their  unflinching  faith  in 
him,  they  had  steadfastly  endured  hardships  and  perse- 
cutions that  otherwise  would  have  led  them  to  renounce 
their  faith,  or  at  least  its  open  profession.  Now  their 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  309 


leader  had  come,  the  die  had  been  cast  that  must  result 
either  in  the  triumph  of  their  cause  or  its  irretrievable 
overthrow  ; and  in  this,  their  supreme  crisis,  the  strug- 
gling Christians  slowly  awoke  to  the  fact  that  N'irado 
Shiro  did  not  fill  their  expectations.  The  young  leader 
was  unconscious  of  this  feeling  among  his  followers  ; but 
the  other  generals  perceived  it,  as  did  also  the  bishop, 
and  to  all  of  them  it  was  a source  of  poignant  sorrow. 
But  to  none  was  this  disappointment  of  the  people  more 
plainly  manifest  than  to  Ine  Tanaka,  and  to  no  other 
heart  did  it  bring  such  bitterness  as  to  hers. 

Thus,  while  the  distressed  people  regarded  Paoli  with 
feelings  of  mingled  love  and  fear,  and  looked  upon  Shiro 
with  an  ever-growing  sense  of  distrust,  their  hearts  went 
out  to  his  betrothed  wife  with  an  amount  of  affectionate 
veneration  that  it  is  seldom  the  good  fortune  of  either 
man  or  woman  to  inspire  in  those  about  them.  She 
became  their  comforter  and  friend.  To  her  they  went  in 
their  sorrows,  and  she  was  the  first  to  hear  of  their  suc- 
cesses in  the  field  and  their  plans  and  hopes  for  the 
future.  Her  fair  face  always  smiled  a welcome  upon 
them,  and  her  sweet  voice  never  failed  in  the  balm  of  its 
consolation  nor  in  the  inspiration  of  its  encouragement 
and  praise.  Exquisitely  tender  and  pathetic  were  this 
beautiful  and  queenly  woman’s  relations  to  the  sorrowing 
women  and  the  stern,  half-hopeful,  half-despairing 
soldiers  about  her. 

In  the  midst  of  all  these  ministrations  to  others,  Ine 
Tanaka  bore  about  in  her  own  bosom  a heart  that  was 
heavy  and  aching.  The  loving  people  saw  her  sweet  face 
increase  its  pallor  day  by  day,  her  features  become  thin 
ner,  and  the  light  in  her  eyes  wane  and  her  gentle  smile 
grow  sadder  as  she  welcomed  them.  They,  poor  folk, 
thought  that  it  was  her  sympathy  for  their  troubles  that 


310  Paoh  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 

was  telling  upon  her  strength,  and,  out  of  their  great  love 
for  her,  they  finally  forebore  to  speak  at  all  of  their  own 
sorrows,  and  brought  her  only  such  tidings  as  might 
cheer  her  drooping  spirits.  And  so,  in  their  simple  way, 
they  strove  to  comfort  her,  who  so  long  had  been  a com- 
forter to  them. 


II. 

a woman’s  battle  and  victory. 

All  in  vain  were  their  efforts.  Ine’s  troubles  had  springs 
they  knew  not  of.  Hers  was  the  sorrow  of  a woman  who 
has  loved  long  and  faithfully,  and  finds  that  her  love  is 
unreturned.  Nabeshima’s  prophecy,  uttered  during  their 
ride  together  from  Unzen  to  Arima,  was  having  its  ful- 
fillment. Her  fidelity  to  the  man  to  whom  her  parents 
had  betrothed  her,  was  receiving  only  faithlessness  and 
suffering  as  its  reward.  The  conference  between  herself 
and  Shiro  and  the  bishop  at  Kayaki,  which  had  there 
been  broken  off,  was  never  resumed  ; and  the  woman  in- 
stinctively felt  that  the  reason  for  this  was  Shiro’s  oppo- 
sition to  discussing  a subject,  in  which,  from  the  first,  he 
had  taken  only  a languid  interest,  and  for  which  he  now 
entertained  a growing  dislike.  Paoli,  she  well  knew, 
was  constantly  urging  upon  the  young  Christian  leader 
the  duty  of  fulfilling  the  obligation  his  parents  had  laid 
upon  him  ; but  Ine  quickly  discovered  that  the  Jesuit’s 
mysterious  influence  over  Shiro,  absolute  as  it  was  in  all 
other  matters,  was  here  baffled  and  set  at  nought. 

The  night  that  she  and  her  lover  had  been  the  guests 
of  Lord  Mori,  Ine  very  plainly  perceived  that  the  fair 
Eurasian  girl  had  awakened  in  Nirado  Shiro  a feeling 
deeper  than  mere  admiration  for  her  beauty.  She  had 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  31 1 


seen  a light  in  his  eyes  and  a warmth  in  his  manner  to- 
ward Una  that  she  had  never  evoked.  And  the  know- 
ledge that  other  eyes  had  noted  this  infatuation  made  the 
pain  it  caused  her  all  the  harder  to  bear,  and  Nabeshima’s 
warning  words  : “ Mark  me  ! he  will  forsake  you  for 

her  !”  still  rang  in  her  ears  and  rankled  her  soul. 

With  all  this  came  the  bitterness  of  the  discovery  that 
the  people  were  disappointed  in  their  leader,  and  that 
their  distrust  of  him  was  increasing  as  the  weeks  passed 
by.  With  what  tender,  compassionate  pity  did  not  this 
loving  woman’s  heart  go  out  to  the  man,  who  was,  slowly 
but  surely,  losing  the  love  of  all  others  ! How  she  longed 
to  warn  him  of  his  peril,  to  comfort  him  with  her  cwn 
devoted  faithfulness  and,  by  her  influence  with  the  people 
and  through  their  affection  for  her,  to  win  back  to  him 
their  respect  and  love  ! Then  a great  fear  took  posses- 
sion of  her.  A presentiment  that  Nirado  Shiro  was  des- 
tined to  fall  by  the  hand  of  the  Prince  of  Kai  haunted  her 
mind.  She,  who,  at  Kayaki  had  believed  him,  by  reason 
of  a Heavenly  appointment,  to  be  invulnerable  against 
the  weapons  of  his  foes,  felt  now,  despite  her  earnest  ef- 
forts to  fight  it  down,  a growing  disbelief  in  both  call 
and  protection.  And  as  this  feeling  strengthened  in  her 
mind,  her  anxious  solicitude  for  his  safety  increased,  her 
love  for  him  deepened. 

Then  followed  that  never-to-be-forgotten  Christmas 
morning,  when  she  beheld  Nabeshima  cut  his  way  to 
Shiro’s  side  and  challenge  the  Christian  chief  to  a mortal 
combat.  She  knew  the  deep  love  the  young  nobleman 
bore  her,  and  the  feelings  with  which  he  consequently  re- 
garded her  betrothed  husband.  She  felt  certain  that  if  the 
two  men  were  allowed  to  join  battle,  Shiro  would  be 
killed.  Hastily  seizing  a bow  and  quiver  that  had  been 
dropped  by  some  soldier  when  Paoli’s  orders  had  come 


3 1 2 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


to  sally  forth  with  swords,  she  struck  off  the  point  of  an 
arrow,  that  she  might  stun  but  not  slay  the  prince,  and, 
fitting  the  shaft  to  the  bow,  she  shot  the  boit  with  what 
effect  we  already  know. 

When  she  heard  Shiro’s  vow  to  Nabeshima’s  retainers  to 
punish  whoever  it  was  that  had  struck  down  their  leader, 
a terrible  horror  seized  upon  her.  Was  this  to  be  her  re- 
ward ? While  Shiro  was  kneeling  by  the  prostrate  body 
of  his  foe,  she  sat  there  stunned,  and  unconscious  to  every- 
thing about  her.  Again,  like  the  sound  of  the  death-bell 
to  the  condemned  prisoner,  Shiro’s  renewed  vow  to 
avenge  the  blow  that  had  saved  his  life  fell  upon  her  ear. 

She  saw  him  look  up.  She  sprang  to  her  feet  and. 
stretching  out  her  arms  toward  him,  she  endeavored  to 
call  upon  him  to  retract  his  oath  ; but  her  tongue  refused 
its  office.  For  a moment,  mute  and  anguished,  she  looked 
down  upon  him  in  piteous  appeal,  and  then,  with  a low 
moan,  she  sank  back  insensible  into  the  arms  of  the 
women  who  sprang  forward  as  they  saw  her  swooning 
away. 

The  young  Christian  leader,  as  the  reader  will  remem- 
ber, had  seen  her,  and  with  a horror,  second  only  to 
Ine’s,  did  he  feel  now  the  full  significance  of  the  oath 
that  he  had  made.  Days  passed  by,  and  he  brooded 
over  the  matter  with  increasing  bitterness  toward  him 
self.  If  he  did  not  love  Ine,  his  frank,  generous  nature 
appreciated  her  motive,  and  rather  would  he  have  per- 
jured himself  a thousand  times  than,  by  word  or  act, 
rebuke  the  woman  who  so  hopelessly  loved  him. 

And  yet  he  was  fulfilling  his  vow  to  Nabeshima’s 
retainers,  and  was  visiting  upon  her,  who  sped  the  fate- 
ful shaft,  a punishment  more  terrible  than  any  the  men  of 
Kai  could  have  enjoined.  For  what  Ine  intuitively  felt 
to  be  Shiro’s  feelings  toward  her  was  the  truth.  He  did 


Paoli;  the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  3 1 3 

not  love  her,  and  the  prospect  of  making  her  his  wife 
was  growing  more  and  more  repugnant  to  him.  lie  had 
been  deeply  smitten  by  the  beautiful  face  of  Una  Mori, 
and  what  had  at  first  been  mere  admiration  rapidly 
deepened  into  a passionate  love.  In  the  early  days  of 
the  seige,  before  the  government  troops  had  cut  off  all 
communications  between  Arima  and  the  mountains, 
Shiro  had  made  a number  of  secret  visits  to  Unzen,  dis- 
guised as  a travelling  komamonoya  * and  had  succeeded  in 
seeing  Una  ; and  now,  though  it  seemed  no  longer  pos- 
sible to  make  these  clandestine  expeditions,  his  thoughts 
dwelt  upon  her  continually. 

Toward  Ine  he  was  always  courteous  and  respectful  ; 
but  since  that  Christmas  morn,  a nervous  discomfort  had 
characterized  his  demeanor  in  her  presence.  No  allusion 
to  the  shooting  was  made  by  either,  though  it  was  con- 
stantly in  the  minds  of  both.  Upon  the  same  day  that 
the  /tonin' s letter  was  creating  such  a sensation  in  Itakura's 
camp,  the  two  had  met  in  the  reception-room  of  the 
women's  quarters,  but  the  young  leader’s  manner  had  been 
colder  and  more  constrained  than  ever  before,  and  it  was 
with  an  audible  sigh  of  relief  that  he  left  the  apartment. 
The  woman  listened  to  his  retreating  footsteps  in  the  cor- 
ridor without,  and,  when  they  had  died  away,  she  fled 
wildly  to  her  own  room  and  threw  herself  on  the  floor, 
in  a passion  of  sobs  and  tears.  All  the  pent-up  anguish, 
that  had  for  so  long  a time  been  preying  upon  her  spirits, 
at  last  burst  through  the  control  of  her  powerful  will, 
and  the  fair  and  queenly  Ine  Tanaka,  who  so  often 
had  stood  serene  and  composed  amid  perils  that  terrified 
all  others  about  her,  was  now  but  a weak  woman,  bowed 
down  beneath  a weight  of  grief  and  woe  that  was  break- 
ing her  heart. 

* A dealer  in  toilet  articles. 


314  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Was  Nirado  Shiro  conscious  of  having  so  faithfully- 
fulfilled  his  vow  to  the  men  of  Kai  ? 

When,  a few  hours  later,  Ine  came  out  of  her  room, 
the  supreme  crisis  in  her  life  had  been  met  and  passed. 
She  was  again  the  sweetly  smiling  woman,  whose  gentle 
presence  had  so  often  brought  fortitude  and  hope  to 
many  a fainting  soul.  Nor  would  any  one  have  sus- 
pected that,  beneath  that  calm  and  regal  exterior,  there 
was  hidden  away,  from  the  sight  of  even  her  dearest 
friends,  a crushed  and  broken  heart.  A battle,  fiercer 
than  the  one  which  Christian  and  infidel  had  waged  that 
Christmas  morn  before  the  gates  of  Hara  Castle,  had 
been  fought  in  the  solitude  of  the  maiden’s  room,  and 
forth  from  the  struggle  now  came  the  victor  who  had 
conquered  by  the  sacrifice  of  self. 

Ine  traversed  a part  of  the  main  castle  until  she  came 
to  the  quarters  of  the  generals  and  the  officers  of  the 
army.  Here  Paoli  had  his  room,  and  to  this  the  woman 
hastened.  Approaching  the  sliding-doors,  she  softly 
called  his  name,  and  in  response  to  an  invitation  from 
within,  she  entered.  It  was  a long,  narrow  apartment,  at 
the  one  end  of  which  a rude  wooden  crucifix  had  been 
set  up  beneath  a picture  of  the  Virgin.  At  the  other  end 
stood  the  bishop’s  bed.  From  a wooden  peg  hung  his 
armor,  and  under  this,  with  its  pole  resting  against  the 
wall,  stood  his  battle-ax.  Paoli  was  pacing  back  and 
forth  the  length  of  the  room  when  the  woman  opened  the 
door,  his  hands  clasped  behind  his  back  and  his  head 
bowed  forward.  Though  he  had  bidden  her  to  enter,  he 
appeared  to  have  forgotten  the  fact,  so  deeply  absorbed 
was  he  in  his  meditations.  Approaching  the  bishop,  Ine 
knelt  at  his  feet,  bowing  her  head  to  the  floor  in  a humble 
obeisance.  It  was  then  that  Paoli  first  seemed  to  be 
aware  of  her  presence. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  315 


“Ah,  it  is  thou,  daughter  !”  he  said,  gently.  “ Rise,  I 
pray  thee  !” 

“ Nay,  good  father,”  replied  the  woman  ; “I  come  as  a 
suppliant,  and  a suppliant’s  attitude  best  befits  me.” 

“ A suppliant,  daughter  ?”  the  other  questioned,  mildly. 
“Thou  knowest  before  asking  that  anything  which  I can 
do  to  help  thee,  it  is  thine  but  to  speak  and  it  shall  be 
done.” 

“ But,  father,  what  if  it  were  a matter  of  most  momen- 
tous import,  one  that  touched  the  interests  of  our 
cause  ?” 

The  bishop  looked  down  at  the  kneeling  woman  a 
moment  in  silence,  then  he  replied,  softly  : 

“ Nothing  that  would  injure  the  cause,  which  she  holds 
dearer  than  her  own  happiness  or  her  life,  would  Ine 
Tanaka  seek.” 

The  woman  shuddered.  Her  happiness ! Alas,  she 
would  ever  henceforth  be  a stranger  to  that  word  ! Her 
life  ! Were  it  not  for  the  good  she  might  still  do  to 
others,  that,  too,  would  be  unsupportable  ! Yet  the 
bishop  was  right.  She  would  not  have  bought  back 
happiness,  were  that  possible,  had  the  price  been  the 
endangering  of  the  deliverance  of  the  church  ; her  life 
she  would  not  have  permitted  for  a single  instant  to  stand 
in  the  way  of  the  accomplishment  of  that  great  work. 

“ I shall  speak,  then,”  she  said,  rising  to  a sitting  pos- 
ture, and  facing  the  bishop,  who  had  seated  himself  on  the 
mats  before  her.  Her  voice  was  steady,  and  her  coun- 
tenance as  calm  and  regal  as  ever,  but  she  felt  her  heart 
beating  tumultuously,  and  her  brain  reeled  at  the  thought 
of  what  she  was  about  to  say. 

“ Speak  on,  daughter,”  Paoli  said,  encouragingly,  as  Ine 
hesitated.  “ Thou  hast  my  promise.” 

“ Good  father,  in  a word  I shall  tell  thee.  I shall  never 


3 1 6 Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


consent  to  marry  Nirado  Shiro.  My  petition  is  to  thee, 
as  head  of  the  Church  of  Japan,  to  absolve  me  from  the 
betrothal  by  which  my  parents  bound  me  to  this  man.” 

Ine  had  expected  to  hear  protests  against  the  cancel- 
ing of  the  betrothal ; objections  based  upon  grounds  of 
present  expediency,  and  urgent  appeals  to  remain  faith- 
ful to  the  covenant  of  her  parents  ; but  she  met  none  of 
these.  Paoli  spoke  never  a word.  He  looked  at  her  a 
minute  or  so  in  silence,  then  arose  and  walked  slowly 
back  and  forth  in  the  room,  and  then,  still  without  a word 
to  the  woman,  he  opened  the  sliding-doors  and  passed 
out.  Ine  waited.  Five,  ten,  twenty  minutes  passed,  and 
he  did  not  return.  She  determined  to  remain  where  she 
was  until  he  did  come  back.  Half  an  hour,  an  hour,  two 
hours,  and  Bishop  Paoli’s  step  was  heard  outside,  and 
then  he  entered  the  room.  The  woman  raised  her  eyes 
to  his  face  ; it  was  careworn  and  haggard.  He  came  and 
knelt  by  Ine’s  side. 

“ Thou  hast  thy  petition,  daughter,”  he  said,  and  his 
voice  trembled  with  emotion.  “ I absolve  thee  from  thy 
betrothal  to  Nirado  Shiro.  I have  seen  him,  Ine.  These 
two  hours  have  I pleaded,  reasoned,  threatened.  In 
vain.  O my  poor  child  !” 

Ine  was  silently  weeping.  This  was  a revelation 
to  her.  Paoli  had  looked  into  her  heart  and  read  its 
secret  ; a secret  she  would  have  hidden  away  from  the 
world,  and  would  have  concealed  even  from  herself.  He 
had  gone  to  her  faithless  lover,  and  pleaded  with  him  in 
her  behalf.  Her  pride  and  self-respect  would  have  re- 
sented this  in  another  ; toward  the  bishop  she  felt  only  a 
pained  gratitude.  She  bowed  her  head  to  the  floor  to 
thank  him,  but  her  voice  broke  down  in  a storm  of  sobs 
and  tears.  And  Paoli,  the  fanatical  Jesuit,  the  stern,  un- 
compromising foe  of  both  heathen  and  heretic,  the 


Paoli : the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


o 1 / 


dreaded  warrior-bishop,  whose  fierce  battle-shout  had 
struck  terror  to  the  hearts  of  the  infidel,  now,  with  a 
sympathy  as  tender  as  that  of  a woman’s,  bowed  his  head 
over  the  sorrowing  Ine  and  wept. 

That  afternoon  Ashizuka  and  the  other  generals  called 
upon  Shiro  to  consult  with  him  respecting  some  contem- 
plated movement  against  the  enemy.  The  young  com- 
mander-in-chief was  not  in  his  room.  Diligent  inquiry 
was  made  throughout  the  soldiers’  quarters,  but  he  was 
not  to  be  found  ; the  entire  castle  was  thoroughly 
searched,  he  was  not  within  the  walls.  Nirado  Shiro  had 
mysteriously  disappeared. 


III. 

AT  THE  HERMITAGE. 

During  these  weeks  filled  with  stirring  events  within 
and  without  the  Christian  castle  at  Arima,  Marmion 
Beaumont  was  slowly  recovering  from  his  injuries  in  the 
restful  quiet  of  Lord  Mori’s  hermitage  on  Unzen.  It 
was  not  long  before  he  was  able  to  be  borne  out  to  the 
front  room  of  the  dwelling  proper,  and  here  he  could  lie 
and  look  down  upon  the  plain  of  the  Christians.  Day 
after  day  he  saw  the  government  troops  slowly  pushing 
the  insurgents  back  upon  the  village,  and  extending 
their  own  lines  toward  Arima  and  the  mountains. 

Some  one  of  the  inmates  of  the  hermitage  was  always 
at  his  side,  and  as  the  old  scholar  was  anxious  to  improve 
the  few  remaining  weeks  left  him  before  he  should  leave 
forever  the  scene  of  his  long  labors,  his  days  and  the 
greater  part  of  his  nights  also  were  spent  in  his  study. 
Una,  Ando,  and  Sanji  therefore  alternated  with  one 


3 1 8 Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


another  in  being  the  Englishman’s  companion,  and  one 
of  the  servants  was  detailed  to  wait  upon  him. 

Between  Beaumont  and  Una  there  soon  grew  up  an 
intimate  friendship  that  gradually  ripened  into  love.  To 
the  young  man,  Una’s  sweetness  and  innocence,  her 
ignorance  of  the  world,  her  simplicity,  and  her  lovable 
disposition  had  an  irresistible  attraction.  Never  before 
had  he  met  a fairer  maiden,  never  before  one  that  so 
thoroughly  charmed  him.  As  for  Una,  even  before  she 
met  Beaumont,  her  fancy  had  made  a hero  of  him,  such 
as  those  of  whom  she  read  in  her  father’s  English  books 
of  chivalry.  It  was,  therefore,  the  most  natural  thing  in 
the  world  for  these  two,  brought  together  under  such 
romantic  circumstances,  to  love  each  other.  Lord  Mori, 
when  Beaumont  had  asked  his  permission  to  wed  his 
daughter,  had  readily  given  his  consent,  for  he  felt  that 
he  was  safe  in  intrusting  his  child’s  happiness  to  the  keep- 
ing of  the  manly  and  noble-natured  young  Englishman. 
And  thus  the  days  flew  swiftly  by  at  the  mountain  her- 
mitage in  preparations  for  flight  and  in  love-dreams  of 
the  future. 

Upon  the  evening  of  the  same  day  during  which  the 
government  troops  were  making  ready  for  their  second 
night  attack  upon  the  Christians,  and  Ine  and  Paoli  had 
held  that  momentous  conversation  in  the  latter’s  room, 
Beaumont  and  Lord  Mori  were  seated  in  the  cave-study 
of  the  hermitage.  The  two  men  had  been  speaking  of  the 
approaching  voyage  to  England. 

“And  yet,  Master  Beaumont,”  said  the  old  man,  sadly, 
“though  we  plan  our  journey  and  make  ready,  what 
assurance  have  we  that  we  shall  be  permitted  to  go  ?” 

The  younger  man  looked  up  in  surprise. 

“You  have  been  laboring  too  hard  of  late,  I fear,  Lord 
Mori,  and  the  strain  upon  your  strength  has  depressed 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  319 

your  spirits.  Why,  it  was  only  yesterday  that  I received 
Captain  Van  Neist’s  letter,  informing  us  that  within  three 
weeks  the  repairs  upon  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  would  be  com- 
pleted, and  that  she  would  immediately  thereafter  set 
sail  for  Arima  ” 

“I  know,  I know,”  returned  the  other,  moodily.  “We 
have  my  cousin’s  protection  as  long  as  we  remain  here  ; 
the  consent  of  the  Dutch  captain  has  been  secured,  you 
say,  to  take  us  away  ; yet  I feel  anxious.  What  if  this 
Van  Neist  should,  after  all,  refuse  to  give  us  passage?” 

Beaumont  became  thoughtful.  There  might,  indeed, 
be  danger  here.  He  knew  Van  Neist’s  impulsive  nature 
too  well  to  deny  the  possibility  of  his  changing  his  mind. 
Influences,  also,  might  be  brought  to  bear  upon  him, 
should  his  promise  concerning  Lord  Mori  become  known, 
that  would  lead  him  to  withdraw  his  offer.  After  a few 
minutes  of  careful  reflection,  the  Englishman  answered 
his  companion’s  inquiry. 

“ I shall  be  frank  with  you,  Lord  Mori,  and  admit  that 
there  is  a chance  of  Captain  Van  Neist’s  refusing  to  take 
us.  Yet,  I know  his  kind  heart  too  well  to  believe  that 
he  is  at  all  likely  to  do  so.  He  and  I are  intimate  friends, 
and,”  added  the  young  man,  modestly,  “ I know  that  I 
have  influence  enough  over  Jansen  Van  Neist  to  hold  him 
to  his  promise  under  any  circumstances,  were  I only  with 
him.” 

The  old  man’s  face  brightened. 

“Then,  why  not  go  to  Nagasaki,  Master  Beaumont?” 
he  said,  eagerly,  “and  remain  with  your  friend  until  he 
brings  his  ship  to  Arima?” 

“ I shall  do  so,”  replied  Beaumont,  promptly.  “And 
when  I am  once  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil , depend  upon 
it,  Lord  Mori,  the  question  of  our  going  to  England  with 
Captain  Van  Neist  is  settled  beyond  recall.” 


320  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


The  Englishman  spoke  with  such  earnest  confidence 
that  the  scholar  felt  inspired  with  a more  hopeful  view  of 
their  situation. 

“ I shall  go  to-morrow,”  Beaumont  continued.  “ The 
Prince  of  Kai  will,  I am  sure,  give  me  an  escort,  and,  in  the 
meantime,  you  and  Una  will  be  safe  under  his  protection.” 

“ Are  you  strong  enough  ?”  asked  the  old  man,  a shade 
of  anxiety  again  overspreading  his  countenance.  “ In  my 
eagerness  to  make  certain  our  flight,  I forgot  your 
wounds.” 

“Nay,  now!”  and  Beaumont  laughed  heartily.  “A 
cripple  or  an  invalid  would  scarcely,  methinks,  be  able  to 
climb  about  these  mountains  in  the  way  that  I have  been 
doing  the  past  week.  Thanks  to  your  skillful  treatment 
and  the  care  of  the  others,  I am  as  well  and  strong  now 
as  I ever  was.” 

The  old  scholar  rose  and  slowly  walked  back  and  forth 
in  the  room,  his  head  bowed  upon  his  breast. 

“ Master  Beaumont,”  he  at  length  said,  “you  leave  us, 
then,  on  the  morrow,  to  be  gone  three  weeks  and  perhaps 
longer.  What  may  happen  in  that  time  we  know  not.  I 
doubt  not  my  cousin’s  purpose  to  protect  us,  nor  yet  his 
ability  to  do  so.  Yet  I have  a presentiment  that  the  sun 
of  my  life  is  rapidly  setting,  and  that  my  eyes  shall  never 
look  upon  the  green  fields  of  thine  and  Una’s  England. 
And  if  such  is  to  be  my  lot,  I hope  that  my  latest  breath 
may  be  drawn  in  the  air  of  my  native  land.  Since  thy 
coming,  and  the  results  that  have  followed  it,  such  has 
been  my  prayer.  Formerly  it  pained  me  to  think  that  it 
might  be  my  daughter’s  fate  to  find  herself  in  the  land  of 
her  mother's  birth  a friendless  stranger.  In  thy  strong 
and  faithful  love,  that  fear  has  been  dispelled.  I have 
your  solemn  word  and  promise,  as  a man  of  honor,  that 
you  will  always  tenderly  love  and  cherish  the  woman 


'IN  HEAVEN'S  NAME,  WHAT  MEANS  THIS?  NIRADO  SHIRO! 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  323 


whose  heart  is  so  wholly  yours,  and  whose  future  happi- 
ness or  wretchedness  is  in  your  hands.  And  because  I 
trust  you  as  fully  as  does  she,  I am  satisfied.  When  you 
reach  England,  search  out  her  mother’s  friends.  Some 
of  them  must  still  be  living,  and  Una  longs  to  look  upon 
the  faces  of  her  English  kinsfolk.” 

Marmion  Beaumont  had  arisen  while  Lord  Mori  was 
speaking,  and  coming  now  to  his  side,  he  took  his  hand. 

“ Lord  Mori,”  he  said,  with  deep  earnestness,  “ I ap- 
preciate your  desire  to  have  your  last  resting-place  among 
the  tombs  of  your  ancestors,  but  let  us  trust  that,  though 
that  wish  will  be  finally  fulfilled,  many  intervening  years 
may  be  spent  with  us,  your  children.” 

The  old  man  shook  his  head,  sadly.  “ Nay,  no  more  ! 
When  I consign  these  precious  volumes,”  and  he  pointed 
to  the  pile  of  manuscript  Bibles  in  the  corner  of  the  room, 
“to  the  receptacle  which  I have  prepared  for  them,  and 
have  written  to  all  my  fellow-princes  of  Japan,  that,  in 
the  secret  hiding-place  which  I shall  point  out  to  them, 
they  shall  find  the  religion  of  my  Lord,  uncorrupted  by 
priestly  intrigue  or  by  superstition,  and  shall  be  able  to 
know  what  it  really  is — then  my  life-work  shall  have  been 
accomplished,  and  I wish  to  live  no  longer." 

The  young  man  saw  it  was  useless  to  say  anything 
more,  and,  as  the  aged  scholar,  going  to  the  pile  of  books, 
knelt  down  with  his  outspread  arms  and  his  face  resting 
upon  them,  Beaumont  quietly  withdrew  from  the  room. 


324  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


IV. 

THE  KOMAMONOYa’s  WOOING  MEETS  WITH  AN  INTERRUPTION. 

While  her  father  and  the  Englishman  were  conversing 
in  the  study,  Una,  with  one  of  the  serving-women  was 
seated  in  a little  summer-house  that  stood  on  the  edge  of 
the  plateau  before  the  hermitage,  and  from  which  an 
excellent  view  could  be  had  of  the  plain  below.  Since 
the  day  upon  which  she  and  Ando  had  gone  up  to  the 
mountain-side  to  see  the  government  troops  marching 
over  the  foot-hills,  the  girl  had  not  dared  to  visit  any  of 
her  favorite  haunts,  lest  Gonroku  and  his  band  might  be 
lurking  in  the  neighborhood,  awaiting  an  opportunity  to 
seize  her  again. 

So  long  as  she  remained  at  home,  she  had  nothing  to 
fear.  In  accordance  with  his  promise,  Nabeshima  had 
placed  a strong  guard  over  his  cousin’s  family.  The  only 
possible  access  to  the  hermitage  was  by  two  paths  that 
led  to  it  over  the  mountains,  one  on  either  side.  The 
prince  had  two  strong  guard-houses  built  over  these 
roads,  so  that  no  one  could  approach  Lord  Mori’s  resi- 
dence or  leave  it  without  passing  through  one  or  the 
other  of  these.  To  each  of  the  guard-houses  he  had  as- 
signed ten  men  that  were  to  watch  night  and  day.  A 
system  of  signals  was  agreed  upon  ; so  that,  in  case  of  an 
attack,  the  prince  could  be  quickly  notified  in  his  camp 
on  the  plain  below. 

Travelling  venders  of  various  articles  of  food  or  of 
clothing  were  permitted  to  visit  the  hermitage,  after 
being  carefully  searched  for  concealed  weapons.  On  the 
evening  of  which  we  are  speaking,  as  Una  looked  up  the 
path  that  wound  down  the  mountain-side,  she  saw  a 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  325 


komamonoya  coming'  toward  them.  A square  basket, 
folded  in  a large,  black  cloth  and  slung  over  his  shoulder, 
contained  his  wares.  His  face  was  almost  entirely  con- 
cealed by  his  drooping  hat  and  the  dark-blue  kerchief 
that  was  drawn  over  his  ears  and  loosely  knotted  under 
his  chin. 

As  the  girl  perceived  the  vender  approaching,  she 
turned  to  her  companion  with  a merry  laugh. 

“ As  I live,  Oban,  if  there  is  not  my  courtly  peddler  ! 
Full  long  has  it  been  since  last  he  favored  us  with  a visit. 
But  I'll  miss  my  guess  if  that  box  is  not  full  of  nice 
things  and  his  head  crammed  with  gallant  speeches  ! 
And  that  reminds  me,  Oban,”  the  laughing  maiden  went 
on,  “my  chivalrous  knight  of  the  pack  is  chary  of  his 
pretty  sayings  if  a third  person  is  within  ear-shot.  So  go 
within,  and  if  my  Master  Beaumont  would  venture  forth, 
forbid  him,  I pray  thee,  under  the  pain  of  this  valiant 
unknown’s  vengeance.” 

“Child,  child  !”  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  reprovingly, 
“thou  reckest  not,  dost  thou,  if  that  silly  fellow  falls 
in  love  with  thee  and  cuts  his  throat  in  consequence  ? 
I have  heard  of  such  cases  before.  Encourage  him  not, 
I beg  of  thee  ; listen  not  to  his  foolish  flatteries.”  And 
the  old  woman  hobbled  away. 

The  komamonoya  had  now  reached  the  summer-house, 
and,  laying  his  burden  down,  he  made  a profound  obei- 
sance to  the  maiden. 

“ How  is  this,  sir?”  demanded  Una,  as  the  man  began 
spreading  out  an  assortment  of  mirrors,  combs,  brushes, 
ornaments  for  the  hair  and  such  like  articles.  “It  has 
been  three,  four,  yes,  five  or  six  weeks  since  my  ears  last 
drank  in  those  courtly  speeches  of  thine  !” 

The  komamonoya  shot  a furtive  glance  at  the  girl’s  face 


326  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


and  Una  perceived  that  his  hand  was  unsteady,  and 
when  he  spoke,  his  voice  was  tremulous  with  emotion. 

“ It  is  not  given  us,  fair  lady,  to  always  do  as  we 
would,  else  would  the  life  of  thy  servant  be  spent  at  thy 
feet.” 

“ Kekko /”  cried  the  girl,  gayly,  “ I told  Oban  when  I 
saw  you  coming  that  your  head  would  be  full  of  fair 
speeeches,  and,  lo  ! you  have  but  to  open  your  mouth 
and  set  them  free  ! Go  on  !” 

The  man  was  in  no  mood  to  appreciate  this  frolicsome 
banter. 

“ Nay,  nay,  lady,  you  mistake  me  ! You  would  make 
me  the  sport  of  an  idle  hour.  To  you  I am  but  a wan- 
dering vender  of  these  trinkets,”  and,  as  he  pointed 
toward  his  basket,  Una  detected  a scornful  ring  in  his 
voice.  “ But,  lady,  I am  not  what  I seem.  To  those  sol- 
diers in  yonder  guard-house — your  foes  and  mine — let 
me  be  the  despised  komamonoya , since  in  their  contempt 
there  is  safety.” 

Una  was  serious  enough  now.  She  looked  down  at  the 
man  in  silent  surprise  and  wonder.  He  continued  : 

“ Six  times,  lady,  have  I already  been  here.  I have 
come  once  more  that  I might  see  you,  hear  you  speak, 
know  that  you  were  yet  safe.” 

Still  the  girl  was  silent  ; a growing  fear  at  her  heart, 
that  some  new  danger  was  threatening  her  father  and 
herself,  chilled  her  and  made  her  dumb.  The  man  went 
on  : 

“ I know  that  you  are  Christians,  and,  in  these  days  of 
persecution  and  bloodshed,  it  were  needless  to  say  what 
that  means  when  once  the  suspicion  of  the  government 
officials  is  aroused.  You  and  your  father,  with  all  those 
about  you,  will  be  lost.  Dangers  even  now  threaten  you. 
You  cannot  any  longer  escape  detection.  And  whither 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  327 


can  you  flee  for  safety  ? Go  where  you  will,  the  heathen 
will  slay  you  because  you  are  believers  in  the  proscribed 
religion.  If  you  fly  to  yonder  Christian  camp,  thy  father’s 
old-time  foe,  Paoli  the  Jesuit,  is  there,  and  he  likewise  will 
put  you  to  death.  Whichever  way  you  turn,  therefore, 
you  are  lost.  Of  all  persons,  I am  the  only  one  that  can 
save  you,  and  for  this  purpose  have  I come  hither.  Yea, 
more  than  this.  Not  only  shall  I save  your  friends,  but 
I can  exalt  you  to  a position  of  the  highest  honor  and 
dignity.” 

“And  you,  sir,  who  are  you  that  speak  thus?”  Una 
faltered  forth,  her  face  deathly  pale,  her  heart  still  with 
terror.  “ Tell  me,  O tell  me  how  you  can  save  my  father, 
if  danger,  such  as  you  mention,  there  really  be  !” 

The  komamonoya  dashed  aside  hat  and  kerchief. 

“Thou  wouldst  know  who  I am,  Una  Mori.  Behold, 
then  ! Thou  hast  seen  my  face  ere  now.  You  know  me, 
do  you  not  ?” 

Before  the  girl  had  time  to  reply,  Marmion  Beaumont 
appeared  on  the  veranda  of  the  hermitage.  With  quick, 
noiseless  steps,  he  crossed  the  grassy  lawn  to  the  summer- 
house. As  the  stranger  removed  his  head-covering,  the 
Englishman,  though  unperceived  by  him,  was  at  his  side. 

“ In  Heaven’s  name  !”  he  cried,  in  the  utmost  astonish- 
ment. “ What  means  this  ? Nirado  Shiro  !” 

The  young  Christian  chief  staggered  to  his  feet  and 
stared  at  Beaumont  in  speechless  amazement.  Una,  freed 
by  her  lover’s  presence  from  the  paralyzing  terror  which 
the  komamonoya’s  words  had  caused,  fled  to  the  house, 
leaving  the  two  men  alone.  Half-an-hour  afterward,  the 
Englishman  rejoined  her,  his  face  wearing  an  amused 
expression.  The  girl,  in  her  deep  anxiety  lest  some  new 
peril  threatened  them,  saw  nothing  of  this,  however,  as 
she  breathlessly  inquired  : 


328  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ What  is  it,  Marmion  ? What  did  the  man  mean  ? Did 
he  tell  you  ?” 

“ Oh,  yes.  I presume  he  told  me  nearly  all  that  he  did 
you,  perhaps  though  with  a little  less  dash  of  the  fright- 
ful,” the  young  man  returned  humorously.  “ The  matter 
is  a very  simple  one,  dearest  Una,”  Beaumont  continued, 
seating  himself  by  the  girl’s  side.  “Nirado  Shiro  has 
fallen  desperately  in  love  with  you,  and  perceiving  this, 
probably,  the  beautiful  Ine  Tanaka  has  had  Paoli  absolve 
her  from  her  obligation  to  marry  him.  Your  ardent 
suiter  sees  nothing  but  danger  and  destruction  awaiting 
all  your  household.  Only  as  his  wife  does  he  believe  that 
you  will  be  safe  from  the  heathen  as  well  as  the  heretic- 
hating  Jesuit  ; and  it  was  to  offer  you  marriage  that  he 
to-day  came  to  the  hermitage.  If  in  his  pleading  he 
painted  your  situation  in  rather  gloomy  colors,  it  was 
only  to  make  you  the  more  readily  consent  to  marry 
him.” 

“ He  told  you  all  this  ?” 

“Yes.  You  remember  I informed  you  some  time  ago 
how  he  confided  in  me  on  shipboard,  so  that  during  the 
voyage  from  Manila  to  Nagasaki  we  became  very  inti- 
mate friends.  I told  him  just  now  of  the  circumstances 
that  have  made  me  an  inmate  of  the  hermitage,  but,  of 
course,  I said  nothing  of  our  relations  to  each  other,  so 
that  his  placing  confidence  in  me  again  is  nothing  re- 
markable. Fear  no  more  trouble  from  him,  dearest  ! 
A word  to  the  guards  and  strangers  of  no  sort  shall  be 
allowed  to  p iss  them.  And  yet,  methinks,  Nirado  Shiro 
can  be  courteous  enough  ; how  is  it,  Una  ?” 

The  girl’s  vivacious  spirits  had  returned  to  her,  now 
that  she  had  discovered  that  no  serious  peril  threatened 
them. 

“ Courteous,  do  vou  say,  sirrah  ?”  she  cried,  with  a 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  329 


merry,  ringing  peal  of  laughter.  “ Marry  ! had  your 
tongue  been  as  glib  of  gallant  speeches  as  was  his,  you 
know  not  how  much  faster  you  might  have  sped  in  your 
wooing  !” 

V. 

A DISCOVERY  THAT  CAME  NOT  TOO  SOON. 

Up  the  mountain-side,  down  into  the  valley,  then  over 
the  foot-hills  in  the  direction  of  Arima  went  Nirado 
Shiro  ; his  mind  full  of  the  fair  maid  of  Unzen,  and  how 
he  might  win  her  for  his  own.  In  his  rapid  walk  through 
the  gathering  darkness,  he  gained  the  crest  of  one  of  the 
higher  foot-hills,  and  far  below  him  burst  into  view  the 
myriad  camp-fires  of  the  government  army.  Shiro 
paused,  and  for  a time  stood  gazing  down  on  the  ani- 
mated scene.  The  whole  camp  seemed  to  be  astir.  In  the 
bright  light  cast  from  the  blazing  fires,  groups  of  soldiers 
could  be  seen  polishing  their  armor  and  weapons,  and 
figures,  whom  he  knew  from  their  gorgeous  trappings  to 
be  officers,  were  hurrying  back  and  forth  among  the  men. 

“ There  is  something  on  hand,”  the  young  man  mut- 
tered, as  he  watched  the  proceedings  below.  “The 
bloodthirsty  idolaters  are  preparing  for  another  attack.” 

The  sound  of  voices  behind  him  caused  him  to  turn  and 
look  down  the  path  by  which  he  had  but  a few  minutes 
before  ascended  the  hill.  Very  soon  he  could  distin- 
guish two  objects  moving  towards  him,  and  as  they  came 
nearer,  he  perceived  they  were  huge  piles  of  brushwood, 
and  that  beneath  each  staggered  a coolie,  bent  nearly 
double  with  the  weight  of  his  burden.  As  the  two  men 
reached  the  place  where  Shiro  was  standing,  they  stopped, 
and  rested  their  loads  upon  the  staves  that  they  bore  in 
their  hands. 


330  Paoli  ; the 'Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ Heavy  burdens,  friends,”  said  the  Christian  chief,  ad- 
dressing them,  pleasantly.  “Ah,  alas  ! this  cruel  war 
brings  heavy  things  ! To  the  soldier,  heavy  blows  ; to 
many  a good  wife  and  her  little  ones,  heavy  hearts  ; and 
to  such  as  you  and  me,  heavy  loads  to  bear.” 

“So  it  does,  stranger,  so  it  does,”  the  foremost  coolie 
responded,  keenly  eying  the  bundle  on  Shiro's  back 
“ But  thou  canst  scarcely  call  that  box  of  gewgaws, 
which  thou  hast  there,  heavy.  If  thou  wouldst  know 
what  a burden  is,  try  now  this  load  of  mine.” 

“Nay,  nay,  thy  word  for  it!”  Shiro  returned  good- 
naturedly.  “ Thou  sayest,  truly,  my  box  is  not  heavy, 
and  alack  ! it  grows  not  any  lighter.  Time  was  when  in 
three  days  I could  have  sold  all  my  trifles  to  the  maids 
and  matrons  of  Shimabara,  but  alas  ! now  their  hearts 
are  too  full  of  mourning  and  anxiety  to  care  ought  for 
adorning  themselves.  Woe  me  ! Would  that  this  griev- 
ous war  were  over  !” 

“Too  true,  too  true  !”  the  other  coolie  broke  in,  with  a 
mournful  shake  of  the  head.  “ But  the  gods  be  praised  ! 
to-night  shall  end  the  war ! Hereafter  may  we  have 
peace  !” 

It  wras  wrell  that  the  darkness  concealed  Shiro’s  face,  as 
he  heard  these  words.  It  was  some  time  before  he  could 
trust  his  voice  to  speak  ; but  finally  he  said  : 

“ Well  spoken,  friend  ! May  peace  return  to  our 
Japan  ! Ah,  but  will  not  the  slaughter  be  terrible  to- 
night !” 

“I  should  think,  indeed,  it  might  be,  friend,”  the  first 
coolie  remarked,  with  a laugh,  not  at  all  suspecting  but 
that  the  person  whom  he  w-as  addressing  knew  as  much 
of  the  proposed  attack  as  himself yes,”  he  added, 
“ something  of  a slaughter  it  is  very  likely  to  be,  seeing 
that  General  Itakura  has  given  orders  to  spare  neither 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  331 


man,  woman  nor  child  of  the  accu rsed  jashui  mon.  Gods  ! 
I am  glad  that  I renounced  the  abhorred  doctrine  long 
ago,”  and  the  fellow,  placing  his  two  palms  together, 
raised  them  to  his  forehead,  repeating  a Buddhist  prayer. 

“That  Yamada,  or  Kuroda,  as  he  now  calls  himself,  is 
a shrewd  fellow,  isn't  he  ?”  the  other  coolie  broke  in. 
“Finely,  indeed,  has  he  duped  those  Christians!  Ah, 
they’ll  repent  that  they  ever  made  him  captain  of  their 
gate-guard,  when  they  see  the  enemy  swarming  into 
their  castle  to-night  !” 

“That  they  will  !”  exclaimed  Shiro,  breathlessly.  “ I 
perceive  the  troops  are  making  preparations  ; I presume 
they  will  be  soon  forming  into  line.” 

“Scarcely,  I think,”  one  of  the  coolies  replied.  “The 
attack,  as  you  of  course  have  heard,  is  not  to  be  made 
until  midnight.” 

Shiro  had  learned  all  that  he  cared  to  know.  He  had 
need  to  make  haste  if  he  arrived  at  Hara  Castle  in  time 
to  give  warning. 

“ It  grows  late,  friends,”  he  said.  “ Your  wood,  me- 
thinks,  will  soon  be  needed  down  at  those  fires  ; and  I, 
too,  must  be  on  my  way.”  And,  with  a parting  bow  to 
the  two  coolies,  he  hastened  off  in  the  darkness. 

VI. 

THE  RETURN  OF  THE  CHIEF. 

In  the  officers’  quarter  of  Hara  Castle,  Paoli  and  the 
four  leaders,  Ashizuka,  Chijiwa,  Oyano  and  Komekine 
were  seated  together  in  a small  room,  discussing  Shiro’s 
disappearance  ; and  their  hearts  were  sorrowful,  as  they 
forecast  the  disastrous  effect  it  would  have  upon  the  army. 
For,  although  the  soldiers  were  sorely  disappointed  in 


332  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


their  young  commander-in-chief,  they  had  faith  in  the 
prophecy  concerning  a divinely  appointed  leader,  and 
this,  they  were  still  hoping,  might  even  yet  find  its  ful- 
fillment in  him. 

While  they  were  talking,  some  one  without  called  for 
admission.  Chijiwa  threw  open  the  sliding  doors,  and  a 
soldier  entered.  After  a low  bow  of  salutation  to  the  oc- 
cupants of  the  room,  he  said  : 

“ A komamonoya  is  without,  who  craves  an  immediate 
interview.  A short  time  ago,  he  appeared  at  the  outer 
gate,  calling  for  admittance.  Kuroda,  the  captain,  was 
opposed  to  granting  his  request,  but  the  fellow  pleaded 
so  piteously,  saying  that  he  was  a Christian  fleeing  for 
his  life,  that  he  was  permitted  to  enter.  Once  within 
the  main  castle,  he  requested  to  be  conducted  to  you. 
What  is  your  pleasure  respecting  his  wish  ?” 

“ Let  him  come  in  at  once,”  Paoli  said,  promptly,  speak- 
ing for  the  others  as  well  as  for  himself.  “ It  may  happen 
that  he  has  important  tidings  to  impart,  or,  possibly,  he 
is  a spy.  In  either  case,  it  behooves  us  to  see  him  im- 
mediately.” 

Thereupon,  Shiro,  still  disguised  as  a komamonya,  and 
with  his  basket  of  wares  yet  upon  his  back,  entered  the 
apartment.  The  soldier  withdrew,  closing  the  door  be- 
hind him,  and  the  eyes  of  the  five  men  were  closely  fixed 
upon  the  new-comer. 

Putting  down  his  burden,  Shiro  removed  his  hat  and 
kerchief,  and  then  followed  exclamations  of  glad  surprise 
as  he  was  recognized.  The  stern,  rugged  Chijiwa  and 
Ashizuka  shed  tears  of  joy,  and  even  the  bishop  could 
scarcely  control  his  emotions.  Paoli  was  the  first  to  re- 
cover himself  sufficiently  to  ask  : 

“ But  what  does  all  this  mean,  Shiro  ! Where  have  you 
been  ?” 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


** 

The  young  chieftain  had  no  intention  of  telling  the  men 
before  him  of  his  visit  to  Unzen.  He  informed  them, 
however,  of  his  discovery  of  Yamada’s  plot  to  betray  the 
castle  that  night  into  the  hands  of  the  foe.  The  men 
listened  to  his  story  in  breathless  amazement.  Nothing, 
that  evening,  had  been  further  from  their  minds  than  the 
thought  of  an  attack,  and  the  possibility  of  their  castle 
being  betrayed  to  the  enemy  had  never  occurred  to  them. 
Had  it  not  been  for  Shiro’s  discovery,  the  surprise  would 
have  been  as  complete  as  Itakura  could  have  desired, 
and  the  destruction  he  had  planned  for  them  might  have 
been  easily  accomplished.  At  last  Shiro  had  done  some- 
thing that  would  commend  him  to  the  hearts  of  his 
people.  He  was,  indeed,  their  saviour ; in  a certain 
sense,  the  prophecy  of  the  great  deliverer  was  that  night 
fulfilled  in  him. 

When  Shiro  had  finished  what  he  had  to  say,  Bishop 
Paoli  sprang  to  his  feet. 

“ Brethren,”  he  exclaimed,  “ God  has  been  good  to  us 
in  returning  us  our  leader,  who  has  now  become  our 
preserver.  We  would  be  glad  to  rouse  the  army  and  to 
present  to  them  their  chief  and  their  deliverer  anew  ; but 
in  a few  more  hours  the  foe  will  be  upon  us.  It  behooves 
us  therefore  to  make  haste.  Let  the  men  be  made  ready 
with  all  dispatch,  for,  behold  ! the  God  of  battles  has 
again  delivered  our  enemies  into  our  hands  !” 

After  a hurried  consultation,  the  leaders  separated. 
Chijivva  was  to  hasten  to  the  gate  and  to  seize  the  captain 
of  the  guardsmen  and  to  bring  him  before  Shiro  and  Paoli  ; 
Komekine  was  to  get  his  guns  in  readiness  on  the  top  of 
the  walls  ; while  Ashizuka  and  Oyano  were  to  arouse  the 
men  and  to  place  them  in  the  most  advantageous  posi- 
tions. It  was  decided  to  withdraw  the  force  stationed  in 
the  outer  fort  into  the  main  castle,  and  to  allow  the  enemy 


334  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


to  come  within  the  first  inclosure.  They  would  there  be 
exposed  to  the  artillery  and  musketry  fire  from  the  walls, 
while  the  catapults  and  large  bow-guns  mounted  on  the 
higher  ramparts  could  also  be  brought  to  bear  upon 
them.  Slingers  and  archers  stationed  in  the  interior  of 
the  castle  could  rain  a veritable  tempest  of  stones  and 
arrows  upon  the  heads  of  the  foe,  who  would  be  penned 
up  in  the  narrow  confines  of  the  outer  inclosure,  their 
retreat  being  retarded  by  the  height  of  the  fortifications 
and  the  impassable  character  of  the  moat 


BOOK  TENTH. 


FRIENDS  BECOME  FOES. 


I. 


ANOTHER  MIDNIGHT  CONFLICT. 


and  dark  rose  the  walls  of  Hara 
Castle  before  the  eyes  of  the  gov- 
ernment army,  when,  shortly  after 
midnight,  it  came  in  heavy  columns 


f 3351 


336  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


descending  the  hill-sides  into  the  plain  of  the  Christians. 
In  the  van  was  General  Itakura  himself  at  the  head  of  a 
strong  body-guard,  and  by  his  side  rode  his  youthful  son, 
who  was  this  night  to  have  his  first  experience  of  war. 
After  the  advance  came  Ogasawara’s  veteran  warriors. 
Then  followed  Tachibana,  Nabeshima,  and  various  other 
leaders,  each  at  the  head  of  a large  detachment.  Orders 
had  been  given  to  use  only  the  sword  in  the  coming  bat- 
tle and  massacre,  and  the  men,  unimpeded  with  their  long 
spears  and  heavy  match-locks,  marched  forward  with 
swift  and  silent  tread.  So  noiseless,  indeed,  was  their 
approach,  that  the  Christians,  though  ever  on  a sharp 
lookout,  were  not  aware  of  their  coming  until,  in  the  dim, 
uncertain  light  of  the  few  lamps  that  had  been  allowed 
to  remain  on  the  top  of  the  outer  defenses,  they  perceived 
the  dense  ranks  of  their  foes  crowded  close  up  to  the 
edge  of  the  moat. 

It  was  here  that  General  Itakura  had  halted  his  forces, 
to  await  the  opening  of  the  gates.  Soon  he  and  his 
guards  were  aware  of  the  approach  of  some  one  in  the 
darkness,  and  then  the  stranger  said  in  a low,  clear  voice  : 

“ The  Christians  no  longer  occupy  these  outer  fortifica- 
tions at  night ; file  into  the  fort,  therefore,  as  rapidly  and 
with  as  little  noise  as  possible,  and  be  ready  to  rush 
through  the  gates  of  the  main  castle  as  soon  as  you  per- 
ceive a blue  light  flash  out  three  times  and  when  he 
had  spoken,  the  stranger  turned  and  disappeared  within 
the  gate. 

Itakura,  thinking  that  the  speaker  was  Yamada,  did  as 
he  was  directed,  and  drew  up  his  body-guard  before  the 
gates  of  the  castle.  Ogasawara  and  Tachibana  also 
crowded  into  the  inclosure  and  took  up  their  stations  in 
the  rear  of  the  advance.  For  lack  of  room,  the  other 
leaders  were  compelled  to  wait  outside  of  the  moat.  Be- 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  339 


fore  them  towered  the  black  wall  of  the  castle  from  the 
top  of  which  a few  dimly  burning  lamps  cast  a feeble 
light  through  the  blackness  of  the  night.  All  was  silent, 
as  if  the  fortress  had  been  deserted,  and  Itakura  congrat- 
ulated himself  on  the  success  of  the  plot,  and  he  and  the 
entire  army  were  jubilantly  confident  over  the  prospect 
of  a speedy  victory. 

Had  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  government  troops 
been  able  to  have  looked  over  into  the  interior  of  the 
stronghold  before  him,  widely  different  would  have  been 
his  feelings  ! There,  behind  their  defenses,  crouched 
thousands  of  determined  warriors,  their  weapons  lying  by 
their  sides,  awaiting  the  signal  to  fire.  Komekine’s  gun- 
ners lay  behind  their  pieces,  their  matches  in  their  hands. 
The  musketeers  covered  the  lower  walls  ; archers,  sling- 
ers  and  the  catapults  and  heavy  bow-guns  occupied  the 
higher  ramparts. 

To  the  waiting  Itakura  at  last  came  the  signal.  A 
bright  blue  flame  flashed  out  thrice  from  the  castle  gates, 
and  the  eager  troops  rushed  swiftly  but  noiselessly  tow- 
ard them,  only  to  find  them  still  shut.  At  that  moment, 
the  area  before  the  walls  was  flooded  with  light  from 
thousands  of  torches,  and  a voice  rang  out  on  the  night 
air : 

“The  plot  of  Uyemon  Yamada  was  discovered,  and  he 
has  suffered  in  his  prison  the  death  of  a spy.  Once  again 
has  the  God  of  the  Christians  brought  confusion  into  the 
councils  of  His  foes  ! Hear,  ye  idolaters,  and  tremble 
and  perish  ! Yaso-Maria!  Woe  to  the  infidel  !” 

As  the  voice  ceased,  the  Christian  flag — a red  cross  on 
a white  field  — was  unfurled  from  the  walls.  As  it  flut- 
tered out  to  the  breeze,  from  within  the  castle  arose  a 
wild  shout  that  was  drowned  in  the  roar  of  cannon  and 
the  crash  of  musketry.  Every  embrasure  vomited  forth 


340  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


its  volley  of  death,  while  from  along  the  entire  length  of 
the  upper  walls  there  burst  upon  the  heads  of  the  devoted 
troops  a storm  of  arrows,  stones  and  heavy  rocks.  In  the 
closely  packed  ranks  of  Itakura’s  army  the  slaughter  was 
frightful.  To  render  their  position  still  more  terrible,  Chi- 
jiwa,  at  the  head  of  his  division  of  the  insurgents,  dashed 
out  of  the  castle  by  another  gate,  and  hastily  gaining  the 
rear  of  Ogasawara’s  and  Tachibana’s  men,  he  threw  his 
force  across  the  entrance  by  which  these  had  gained  ad- 
mission to  the  inclosure,  preventing  their  escape  through 
the  gates  and  also  repulsing  the  attempts  of  the  other 
leaders  to  cross  over  to  their  rescue. 

The  scenes  of  the  night  attack  of  the  twenty-fifth  of 
December  were  repeated,  but  with  additional  horrors  ; 
for,  on  the  former  occasion,  the  troops  had  a compara- 
tively free  field  for  flight,  whereas  they  now  found  them- 
selves imprisoned  between  the  walls  of  the  castle  and  the 
outer  line  of  defenses,  with  the  way  of  their  retreat  cut  off. 

Tachibana’s  men,  not  so  experienced  in  warfare  as 
those  of  Ogasawara,  were  soon  thrown  into  a panic  by 
the  incessant  and  murderous  fire  that  was  poured  into 
their  ranks  by  an  unseen  foe,  and,  after  a few  ineffectual 
attempts  to  dislodge  Chijiwa  and  to  make  their  escape 
by  the  way  they  had  entered,  they  began  scaling  the 
breastworks  and  throwing  themselves  into  the  moat  in 
the  vain  hope  of  being  able  to  cross  it  in  safety.  The 
fosse , at  this  particular  place,  was  about  fifty  feet  wide 
and  twenty  in  depth,  and  was  partially  filled  with  mud 
and  water.  It  now  became  the  grave  of  hundreds  who 
plunged  into  it  until  a very  bridge  of  bodies  made  a passage 
possible  for  the  few  survivors,  who  escaping  across  the 
moat,  fled  past  the  other  divisions  of  the  government  army 
into  the  plain  and  through  the  darkness  in  the  direction 
of  their  camp. 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  34 1 


Ogasawara  succeeded  in  keeping  order  among  his  men, 
and,  perceiving  the  impossibility  of  making  any  effectual 
attack  upon  the  castle,  he  ordered  a charge  upon  Chi 
jiwa's  force,  with  a view  to  driving  them  back  from  the 
gates.  The  well-trained  and  gallant  soldiers,  nearly  a 
fourth  of  whose  numbers  were  already  stretched  out  in 
the  silence  of  death,  or  writhing  in  pain  in  this  terrible 
blood-pit,  responded  to  their  leader’s  command  with  a 
shout.  Chijiwa,  knowing  the  character  of  the  men  who 
now  crossed  weapons  with  his  yeomen,  prudently  with- 
drew, and  Ogasawara  and  his  troops  passing  through,  re- 
joined the  other  leaders  outside  of  the  defenses. 


II. 

DEATH  BEFORE  DISGRACE. 

In  the  surprise  and  confusion  attending  the  discovery 
that  his  plans  had  miscarried,  General  Itakura  and  his 
body-guard  had  fallen  back  into  the  southern  part  of  the 
fort,  where  on  Christmas  morning  Nabeshima  had  fired 
the  store-houses.  In  an  incredibly  short  time,  the  govern- 
ment commander-in-chief  beheld  Tachibana’s  division 
plunging  over  the  breastworks  into  the  moat  and  the 
Satsuma  men  retreating  out  of  the  fort.  The  second  at- 
tack upon  Hara  Castle  had  proved  as  bootless  and  disas- 
trous as  had  the  first,  and  Itakura,  disheartened  beyond 
measure,  decided  rather  than  to  face  the  reproaches  of 
the  Shogun  and  the  disgrace  of  being  superseded  in  the 
chief  command,  to  die  the  death  of  a warrior  before  the 
walls  of  the  foe.  Calling  his  body-guard  about  him,  he 
told  them  his  decision,  and  the  faithful  retainers,  upon 
hearing  his  words,  begged  the  privilege  of  dying  with 


342  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


their  lord  and  asked  to  be  led  against  the  enemy.  At  that 
moment,  the  gates  of  the  main  castle  was  thrown  open  to 
admit  Chijiwa's  men,  and,  perceiving  this,  Itakura  gave 
the  order  to  advance  ; and  straight  down  upon  the  open 
gates,  in  a solid  column,  they  charged  with  a fury  that 
swept  aside  all  resistance.  The  next  moment,  they  were 
at  the  gate  ; then,  before  it  could  be  closed,  they  had 
dashed  through  into  the  castle,  where  they  at  once 
began  a fierce  onslaught  upon  Ashizuka’s  men,  who  had 
just  descended  from  the  walls.  In  the  furious  dash  made 
upon  the  gates,  Chijiwa’s  force  had  been  driven  away 
from  the  entrance,  but  quickly  recovering  themselves,  a 
few  of  them  followed  the  government  soldiers  into  the 
castle  and  made  fast  the  gates;  the  others,  with  their 
leader  at  their  head,  hastily  returned  to  the  outer  de- 
fenses to  repel  any  possible  attack  from  the  main  army. 

The  struggle  in  the  castle  between  Itakura’s  body- 
guard, who  had  come  there  to  die,  and  Ashizuka’s  soldiers, 
who  knew  that  defeat  meant  the  fall  of  their  stronghold 
and  the  destruction  of  themselves,  was  one  of  indescrib- 
able fury.  The  Christians  out-numbered  their  foes  fully 
three  to  one,  yet  despite  this  advantage  and  their 
unflinching  bravery  alike,  they  found  themselves  no 
match  for  the  disciplined  and  desperate  warriors  opposed 
to  them,  and  they  fell  in  such  numbers  that  the  ground 
upon  which  they  fought  was  soon  thickly  cumbered 
with  their  dead.  Finally,  Ashizuka,  seeing  General 
Itakura  mounted  on  his  horse,  dashing  hither  and  thither 
in  the  fray,  and  with  his  heavy  sword  dealing  death 
wherever  he  went,  pointed  him  out  to  a group  of  mus- 
keteers, saying  : 

“Yonder  is  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  government 
troops  ; if  he  should  fall,  this  slaughter  of  our  brethren 
would  soon  cease.” 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  343 


At  that  moment,  Komekine  raised  his  match-lock,  and, 
taking  careful  aim,  fired.  Itakura,  pierced  through  the 
breast,  threw  up  his  arms  wildly,  and,  with  a loud  cry, 
fell  from  his  horse. 

“ Fight  on,  brave  hearts,  fight  on  ! ” gasped  the  dying 
chief  to  his  retainers,  who  had  closed  over  him,  eager  to 
mingle  their  blood  with  his.  “Ah,  ye  gods!  A little 
more  and  the  castle  would  have  been  mine  !” 

With  a mighty  effort,  the  fallen  general  rallied  himself, 
sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  rushing  with  uplifted  sword  in 
the  direction  of  the  enemy,  he  flung  his  weapon  among 
them  and  with  the  effort  fell  lifeless  upon  his  face. 

The  victory  was  now  won  for  the  Christians.  The 
infidel  gathered  around  the  dead  body  of  their  lord  that 
they  might  fall  beside  him.  This  movement  changed  their 
tactics  from  attack  to  defense.  An  encircling  wall  of 
foes  soon  gathered  around  the  devoted  little  band,  and 
their  ranks  were  torn  and  broken  by  the  heavy  volleys 
poured  into  them  from  all  sides.  Stubbornly  they  stood 
and  fought,  neither  receiving  nor  desiring  mercy  from 
an  enemy  they  hated  and,  with  their  latest  breath, 
scorned  and  defied.  In  a short  time,  the  sound  of  battle 
lessened,  and,  before  long,  it  subsided  into  silence.  The 
luckless  son  of  the  fallen  general,  sinking  down  among 
the  slain,  with  an  expiring  effort,  sought  his  father’s  feet, 
and  there,  prostrating  himself  as  if  in  humble  obeisance, 
with  his  forehead  on  the  bloody  ground  and  his  hands 
on  his  parent’s  knees,  groaned  and  died. 


344  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


III. 

BEARDING  THE  FOE 

Three  days  after  the  death  of  Itakura,  Matsudaira,  the 
new  general-in-chief,  arrived  at  the  camp  and  assumed 
the  command  of  the  army.  His  policy  was  closely  to  invest 
the  Christian  stronghold  both  by  land  and  sea,  cutting 
off  all  possibility  of  the  garrison  receiving  supplies  from 
without,  and  then  quietly  to  wait  and  let  famine  do  its 
work.  In  accordance  with  this  plan,  which  the  new 
leader  at  once  proceeded  to  put  into  execution,  the  fleet 
of  war-junks  was  increased  and  the  camp  of  the  land 
forces  was  removed  from  the  heights  and  placed  upon 
the  plain  of  the  Christians,  where  it  extended  in  a semi- 
circle from  the  shore  of  the  bay  on  the  north  around  the 
beleaguered  fortress  to  the  sea  again  on  the  south. 

It  was  now  mid-winter,  and,  though  in  southern  Japan 
this  season  is  unattended  with  severe  cold,  yet  the  winds 
of  February  and  March  are  exceedingly  raw  and  chilly. 
Tents  of  cloth  were,  therefore,  scarcely  adequate  to  pro- 
tect the  army  from  the  inclement  weather,  and  the 
soldiers,  having  nothing  to  do,  were  commanded  to  build 
small  houses  for  the  accommodation  of  their  officers, 
and  booths,  constructed  of  bushes  and  brush,  covered 
with  cotton  canvas  roofs  or  thatched  with  straw,  for  their 
own  quarters.  In  a short  time  the  new  camp  took  on  the 
appearance  of  a large  city,  with  regular  streets,  which  at 
night  were  illuminated  by  huge  oil-lamps  set  on  the  tops 
of  high  posts. 

The  Christians,  as  they  perceived  their  enemies  settling 
down  around  them  with  the  evident  determination  of 
remaining  until  the  castle  was  surrendered  or  captured, 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  345 

grew  more  daring  as  their  situation  became  the  more 
critical.  Scarcely  a day  passed  but  they  sallied  out  of 
their  gates  and  attacked  some  part  of  the  government 
camp,  and  after  a spirited  engagement  with  the  enemy, 
they  would  fall  back  within  their  fortress.  Small  forag- 
ing parties  would  steal  out  at  night,  and  by  a sudden 
dash  penetrate,  not  infrequently,  into  the  centre  of  the 
camp,  and  before  their  retreat  could  be  intercepted,  they 
would  cut  their  way  out  again,  and  return  in  safety 
to  the  shelter  of  their  own  walls,  having  left  bloody 
tokens  of  their  visit  in  the  foemen’s  slain  and  wounded 
that  marked  their  course. 

These  vigorous  sallies  and  assaults  defeated  Matsudai- 
ra’s  plan  for  a bloodless  siege  and  victory,  and  enraged 
the  proud  Samurai.  They  chafed,  and  grew  more  and 
more  restive  under  the  new commander-in-chief’s  policy, 
until  finally  they  broke  out  into  open  mutiny.  They 
were  sent  to  Arima  to  fight,  they  urged,  and  not  to  lie  in 
camp  like  foxes  in  their  holes,  and  to  endure  the  ignominy 
of  being  bearded  day  after  day  by  a handful  of  rebel- 
peasants.  Their  swords  were  rusting  in  their  sheaths  ; 
the  Christians  were  becoming  more  and  more- insolent, 
their  attacks  more  frequent  and  daring.  A long  petition, 
bearing  the  seals  of  thousands  of  the  soldiers,  and  not  a 
few  of  the  princes,  was  sent  to  Matsudaira,  begging  him 
to  order  an  attack  upon  the  castle.  The  haughty  gen- 
eral returned  a point-blank  refusal.  Then  followed  a 
complaint  and  petition  to  the  Shogun,  asking  him  to  dis- 
patch at  once  to  Arima  the  representative  he  had  promised 
to  take  charge  of  the  campaign  against  the  insurgents. 

This  document  was  sent  to  Yedo,  and  in  due  time  an 
answer  was  returned  that  the  Shogun  would  soon  send 
an  able  general  to  represent  him  at  the  seat  of  war,  and 
that  since  Yorinobu,  his  regular  deputy,  was  unable  to 


346  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


go,  he  had  decided  to  intrust  the  mission  to  Hojo,  the 
Prince  of  Awa,  upon  whom  he  would  confer  full  pleni- 
potentiary powers  as  his  representative  in  Kiushiu.  These 
tidings  created  the  wildest  enthusiasm  in  the  camp  of 
the  government  army.  Hojo,  it  was  well  known,  was 
one  of  the  bravest  and  most  experienced  military  leaders 
of  the  nation,  and  the  soldiers  were  convinced  that  upon 
his  arrival  more  vigorous  measures  in  the  prosecution  of 
the  siege  would  be  adopted. 

The  Christians  kept  themselves  informed  of  affairs  in 
the  hostile  camp  through  the  agency  of  spies,  and  by 
carrying  off  prisoners  whom  they  captured  in  their  sallies 
and  torturing  these  until  they  disclosed  the  plans  of  their 
leaders.  The  report  that  Prince  Hojo  was  coming  down 
to  take  charge  of  the  siege  filled  them  with  alarm.  They 
knew  the  determined  character  of  the  man,  and  were 
well  aware  that  when  he  had  come  they  would  no  longer 
be  permitted  to  make  the  government  troops  the  victims 
of  their  unrebuked  scorn  and  defiance.  Besides,  their 
provisions  and  munitions  of  war  were  becoming  exhaust- 
ed. Various  devices  had  already  been  resorted  to  to 
supplement  their  failing  stores.  Some  of  their  horses 
were  killed  and  served  out  as  meat  to  the  garrison  ; small 
quantities  of  fish  were  caught  by  dropping  lines  over  the 
seaward  wall  of  the  fortress  ; and  roots  and  leaves,  sea- 
weed and  moss  were  used  as  articles  of  food.  Their 
stock  of  lead  becoming  low,  small  round  pebbles  were 
covered  with  that  metal  and  made  to  serve  as  musket 
bullets,  and  stones  of  various  sizes  were  cut  and  polished 
for  cannon-balls.  The  old  men  and  the  women  and  chil- 
dren busied  themselves  in  making  arrows  and  javelins 
and  in  breaking  stones  and  heaping  them  up  in  huge 
piles  along  the  outer  walls  for  the  use  of  slingers  and  the 
catapults. 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  347 


IV. 

SWORD  OR  FAMINE,  WHICH  ? 

Early  in  March,  a conference  of  the  Christian  leaders 
was  held,  and  it  was  unanimously  agreed  that  something 
must  be  done  to  raise  the  siege.  So  closely  were  they 
invested  by  the  foe,  that  re-inforcements  from  the  out- 
side could  no  longer  reach  them,  and  they  feared  that 
those  throughout  Kiushiu,  who  were  friendly  disposed 
toward  them,  would  be  deterred  from  joining  their  cause 
when  they  perceived  the  main  army  of  the  Christians  to 
be  hopelessly  shut  up  in  their  castle.  The  officers,  there- 
fore, decided  to  assemble  all  within  the  fortress,  and  to 
have  one  of  the  generals  address  them.  Ashizuka,  being 
the  oldest  of  the  leaders,  was  appointed  to  this  office. 
The  same  day  the  entire  population  of  Hara  Castle  was 
called  together  in  the  first  or  largest  division  of  the 
stronghold,  and  here  the  veteran  chieftain,  taking  his 
stand  on  one  of  the  lower  ramparts,  thus  spoke  : 

“ A wise  man,  when  he  is  in  imminent  danger,  will 
confess  freely  the  peril  of  his  situation  and  take  counsel 
with  his  friends  as  to  what  methods  will  be  the  most  effi- 
cacious for  his  salvation.  Only  a fool  is  wilfully  blind  to 
the  harm  that  may  be  on  the  very  point  of  assailing  him, 
and  he  would  be  worse  than  a fool  who  cries  he  is  safe, 
when  he  is  encompassed  by  the  most  deadly  foes.  Let 
us  be  wise  men  to-day,  and,  like  wise  men,  admit  at  once 
that  our  lives  and  the  lives  of  our  wives  and  children, 
and  of  all  identified  with  us  and  our  religion,  are  in  the 
utmost  jeopardy — admit  the  almost  hopeless  condition 
we  are  in,  in  order  that  we  may  at  once  proceed  to  devise, 
if  possible,  some  desperate  measures  for  escape.  Were 


348  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


there  no  lack  of  provisions  and  munitions  of  war,  our 
capture  would  be  practically  impossible  ; but  as  it  is,  our 
present  condition  is  such  that  even  the  stoutest-hearted 
among  us  may  well  be  pardoned  if  he  be  cast  down  and 
full  of  despair.  With  the  greatest  possible  economy,  our 
provisions  cannot  last  us  more  than  half  a month,  and 
our  supply  of  gunpowder  is  so  low  that  three  or  four 
more  engagements,  at  the  most,  will  exhaust  it.  Such 
is  our  situation  ; and  what  is  to  be  done  ? Shall  we  re- 
main in  the  castle?  Do  this,  and  our  destruction  is  only 
a question  of  time  : for,  should  our  food  fail  us  before 
our  ammunition,  we  shall  not  have  the  strength  to  stand 
by  our  guns  ; or  if,  on  the  other  hand,  our  ammunition 
be  the  first  to  be  exhausted,  our  guns  will  become  useless 
and  all  other  means  and  weapons  of  defense  will  be  inad- 
equate before  a resolute  attack  of  our  foes.  Therefore,  to 
remain  in  the  castle  is  to  court  death  and  to  insure 
destruction.” 

A hollow  groan  broke  from  the  multitude  before  the 
speaker.  Ashizuka  had  not  exaggerated  the  perils  of 
their  situation.  In  their  own  hearts,  they  had  each  rea- 
soned in  a similar  way  but  they  had  not  given  voice  to 
their  anxious  forebodings.  Now  for  the  first  time  in 
the  history  of  the  siege  had  such  alarming  language 
found  utterance. 

“Thanks  be  to  God  !”  exclaimed  a sorrowful-looking 
woman,  devoutly  crossing  herself  ; “ the  end  is  near,  and 
I rejoice.  Husband,  brother,  sister,  son,  all  have  won 
their  martyr  crown,  and  I long  to  pluck  on  mine.  Dear 
Jesu  ! be  merciful  and  keep  me  away  no  longer  from 
my  loved  ones  ! I would  be  with  them  and  Thee.” 

“Alack  the  day  in  which  we  raised  our  hands  in  rebel- 
lion against  our  rulers  ! ” mournfully  lamented  a despond- 
ent man  among  a group  of  weeping  women.  “We  had 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  M issionarics.  349 


better  sue  for  mercy  and  promise  to  forsake  this  foreign 
faith.  Life  is  too  precious  thus  to  throw  it  away  ; and. 
after  all,  the  religion  of  our  ancestors  is  good  enough  for 
us,  their  children.” 

“ War,  war ! ” growled  a burly  soldier,  whose  body 
bore  the  scars  of  many  a red  battle-field.  “ No  more  of 
the  castle  ; out  of  it,  say  I ; and  if  the  way  out  lies 
through  the  enemy’s  camp,  then  let  us  upon  that  camp 
with  fire  and  sword  !” 

“ I much  mislike  the  good  general’s  speech,”  muttered 
Mori  Soiken,  one  of  the  native  priests.  “ Does  he  forget 
that  they,  upon  whose  side  fight  the  legions  of  the  skies, 
cannot  know  defeat?  Holy  Cross!  He  speaks  not  at 
all  of  our  God-appointed  leader  nor  of  our  brave  bishop, 
that  executioner  of  the  Lord,  who  visits  the  punishment 
of  Heaven  upon  the  head  of  the  infidel  ! ” 

Ashizuka,  while  these  comments  were  being  uttered, 
had  made  pause  in  his  address,  and  his  gaze,  turning 
from  the  multitude  before  him,  rested  for  a moment  on 
the  hostile  army  that  encompassed  the  fortress,  and  then 
sought  the  mountains  beyond.  Pointing  in  the  direction 
of  these,  he  continued  : 

“ Fellow-Christians,  I look  beyond  the  encampment  of 
the  foe,  and  the  hills  say  to  me:  ‘Come  hither  and 

breathe  our  air  of  freedom.’  The  plain,  methinks, 
reproachfully  asks  me  why  it  is  that  the  Christian  has 
relinquished  it  to  the  tread  of  the  infidel.  Yonder  sea, 
vester-eve,  moaning  in  unrest  beneath  the  weight  of  the 
idolaters’  fleet,  that  burdened  its  bosom,  gathered  to  it- 
self the  strength  of  the  storm,  and  this  morning’s  sun  be- 
held the  war-junks  sunken,  dispersed  or  stranded  on 
the  beach.  O my  friends!  let  us  learn  from  this  a lesson  ! 
The  sea  last  night  borrowed  its  strength  from  the  pow- 
erful currents  of  the  air,  and  in  that  strength  it  dashed 


350  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Alissionaries. 


to  pieces  the  hateful  burdens  that  chafed  its  breast.  We, 
Warriors  of  the  Church,  borrow  our  strength  from  above. 
As  on  last  Christmas  morn,  saintly  legions  await  our 
bidding  to  clothe  us  with  invincible  boldness,  and  to  pour 
terror  into  the  ranks  of  the  idolaters. 

“ Yonder  insolent  soldiery  have  never  crossed  weapons 
with  us  except  to  flee  before  us.  Again  and  again  have 
we  in  small  detachments  attacked  their  camp,  and  ye 
yourselves  know  with  what  difficulty  they  have  repelled 
our  assaults.  If,  therefore,  we  have  done  so  well  without 
preparation  and  upon  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  what 
may  we  not  do  if  we  plan  carefully  and  then  carry  our 
plans  into  vigorous  execution  ! 

“ O Swords  of  the  Church,  let  us  be  up  and  do- 
ing ! Our  God  shall  make  fear  to  march  before  us  ; 
into  the  counsels  of  our  foes  he  will  breathe  the  spirit  of 
giddiness,  of  trepidation,  of  discord  ; he  will  blind  them 
to  our  purposes  ; he  will  cause  them  to  fall  into  the  snare 
we  set  for  them  ; and  we  shall  smite  them  with  the  edge 
of  the  sword.  We  shall  give  their  camp  to  the  flames, 
and  the  remnant  of  them  that  escape  our  fury  shall  be 
broken  and  dispersed.  The  siege  of  our  castle  will  be 
raised  ; thousands  that  are  now  fearful  of  joining  our 
cause,  hearing  of  our  marvellous  victory,  will  rally  to  our 
side,  and  the  day  draws  on  apace  when  the  Church  of 
Japan  shall  have  set  her  foot  upon  the  neck  of  the  infidel.” 

The  speaker’s  voice  had  risen  to  such  a pitch  of  fervid 
eloquence,  that  of  itself  it  would  have  kindled  by  its  fiery 
enthusiasm  an  answering  ardor  in  the  hearts  of  the  hear- 
ers. But  Ashizuka’s  artful  method  of  first  creating  a deep 
despondency  in  the  spirits  of  the  people  by  holding  up 
before  them  the  horrors  of  their  situation  if  they  did  not 
at  once  arouse  themselves  to  a greater  activity,  and  then, 
by  a sudden  turn,  appealing  to  their  past  victories  and 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  351 


to  their  belief  that  their  cause  was  championed  of  Heaven 
as  reason  for  the  utmost  hope  and  boldness,  had  pro- 
duced the  effect  which  he  had  intended.  The  entire 
assembly  was  swept  by  a flame  of  martial  zeal,  and  the 
cry  went  up  as  the  voice  of  one  man  : 

“War  ! War!  On  to  the  camp  of  the  enemy  !" 

On  the  day  following  Ashizuka’s  address  to  the  Chris- 
tians, the  government  troops  were  astonished  to  see  the 
insurgents  issuing  from  their  gates  and  in  solid  columns, 
bearing  down  upon  the  camp.  They  were  admirably  ar- 
ranged for  attack  in  three  divisions,  of  about  four  thous- 
and men  each,  under  the  leadership  of  Ashizuka,  Chi- 
jiwa  and  Oyano  ; while  behind  these  came  the  artillery 
under  the  command  of  Komekine. 

The  army  of  Matsudaira  made  haste  to  form  itself  in 
battle  array  to  receive  the  expected  charge.  To  the 
astonishment  of  all  beholders,  however,  the  Christians,  as 
they  approached  the  government  troops,  were  seen  to 
waver,  but  at  what  appeared  to  be  the  earnest  exhorta- 
tion of  their  leaders,  they  again  pressed  forward,  although 
with  great  unsteadiness  and  evident  trepidation.  When 
they  had  come  within  bow-shot  of  the  camp,  they  again 
halted,  and  refused  to  move  forward  at  the  commands  of 
their  officers;  and,  after  discharging  a flight  of  arrows 
in  the  direction  of  their  foes,  they  beat  a precipitate  re- 
treat toward  their  defenses.  With  such  quickness  was 
their  return  to  the  shelter  of  the  fortress  accomplish- 
ed, that  Matsudaira’s  men,  in  the  pursuit  that  wras  or- 
dered, were  unable  to  overtake  them. 

The  next  day  the  same  maneuver  wras  repeated.  The 
troops  sprang  to  arms  and  hurried  forth  to  meet  their 
enemy,  but  at  their  approach,  the  Christians,  after  a fee- 
ble effort  at  resistance,  again  broke  and  fled.  Daily  for 
nearly  a week  did  the  insurgents  thus  issue  from  their 


352  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


castle,  apparently  for  the  purpose  of  attacking  the  camp, 
only  to  have  their  courage  fail  them  as  often  as  they 
came  before  their  foes.  After  the  first  few  times,  the 
government  troops  no  longer  formed  themselves  in  bat- 
tle order  at  their  approach,  and  finally  the  entire  army 
came  to  regard  their  movements  with  contemptuous  in- 
difference. As  the  Christians  drew  near  to  the  encamp- 
ment, a few  hundred  men,  armed  with  muskets,  would 
charge  down  upon  them  and  drive  them  back  into  the 
beleaguered  fortress.  And  thus  matters  stood  on  the 
evening  of  the  ninth  of  March,  1638. 


V. 

AN  AWAKENING. 

When  once  a man  sets  his  face  toward  evil,  the  rapidity 
with  which  his  moral  sense  becomes  blunted,  his  con- 
science seared,  his  heart  ready  to  devise  and  his  hand 
eager  to  commit  crime,  depends  very  largely  upon  the 
vehemence  and  persistency  of  the  unholy  passion  that 
has  taken  possession  of  him.  Nirado  Shiro  had  been 
fully  conscious  from  the  first  that  his  love  for  Lord 
Mori’s  daughter  was  wrong,  and  that,  if  fostered,  it  could 
lead  only  to  an  unhappy  end.  He  was  aware  of  his  duty 
to  his  betrothed  wife,  and  acknowledged  that  she  was 
worthy  of  his  affection.  Yet  he  suffered  his  admiration 
for  Una  Mori  to  develop  into  a passion  that  mastered  his 
judgment  and  reason  and  led  captive  his  will.  He  who 
on  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  had  discoursed  concerning  his  di- 
vinely-appointed mission  in  such  exalted  strains  of  reli- 
gious fervor  and  devotion,  found  now  that  the  suffering 
people,  whom  he  had  come  to  deliver,  occupied  a less 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  353 

place  in  his  thoughts  than  the  evil  infatuation  to  which 
he  had  surrendered  himself. 

Thus,  from  bad  to  worse,  the  current  of  his  life  had 
flowed  on.  Yet,  in  the  midst  of  his  growing  degene- 
racy, he  still  honored  Ine  Tanaka,  and  there  were  even 
times  when,  for  a moment,  his  better  nature  would  re- 
assert itself  and  he  would  feel  an  impulse  to  go  to  her 
and,  imploring  her  forgiveness  for  the  pain  he  had 
caused  her,  to  ask  her  consent  to  a renewal  of  the  be- 
trothal between  them. 

As  the  time  passed  by,  however,  these  moments  of 
repentant  reflection  occurred  less  and  less  frequently, 
until  at  last,  Nirado  Shiro,  from  dwelling  upon  his  mad 
I assion  for  the  fair  Eurasian  girl,  gave  himself  up  to 
plotting  in  his  own  mind  how,  by  fair  means  or  by  foul, 
he  might  possess  her. 

Chance  had  thrown  into  his  way  something,  by  which 
he  believed,  he  might  attain  the  object  of  his  desire, 
should  milder  measures  fail.  Upon  the  occasion  of  one 
his  visits  to  the  hermitage,  in  the  disguise  of  a komam- 
onoya,  he  had  picked  up  a paper  in  the  outer  hall  of  Lord 
Mori’s  dwelling,  to  which  he  had  been  admitted  for  the 
purpose  of  exhibiting  his  wares  to  Una  and  the  women 
of  the  household.  This  paper  proved  to  be  a copy  of 
the  letter  which  the  recluse  was  preparing,  and  which, 
after  his  departure  from  Japan,  was  to  be  sent  to  the 
princes  of  the  nation,  denouncing  the  doctrines  of  the 
foreign  priests  as  a corrupt  form  of  Christianity,  exhort- 
ing them  to  study  Christ’s  own  words  if  they  would  know 
His  teachings,  and  informing  them  where  translations 
of  the  Scriptures  were  concealed  awaiting  their  pleasure. 
Shiro  carefully  preserved  this  letter,  for  he  knew  he  had 
but  to  show  it  to  Paoli  to  fan  his  long  cherished  hos- 
tility to  Lord  Mori  into  a furious  flame;  and  when  the 


354  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Jesuit’s  vengeance  should  fall  upon  the  father,  Shiro 
believed  that  he  could  so  control  events  that  the  daughter 
would  come  into  his  power. 

Ever  since  that  memorable  afternoon  that  Ine  had  gone 
to  Paoli’s  room,  and  the  latter  had  sought  out  Shiro  to 
plead  with  him  on  her  behalf,  the  relations  between  the 
Jesuit  and  the  young  leader  had  been  growing  more 
strained.  No  open  rupture  had  yet  occurred,  but  to  both 
the  bishop,  who  chafed  over  his  recent  defeat,  and  to 
Shiro,  whose  increasing  self-assertion  could  ill  brook 
Paoli’s  dictatorship,  it  was  very  evident  that  even  an  out- 
ward appearance  of  peace  could  not  much  longer  be 
maintained.  When  the  Jesuit  learned  of  Shiro’s  affec- 
tion for  Lord  Mori’s  daughter,  he  summoned  the  young 
man  to  his  room,  and,  before  the  awful  denunciations 
and  threats  which  this  strangely  calm  being,  with  his 
burning  eyes  and  coldly  quiet  voice,  heaped  upon  him, 
Nirado  Shiro  was  terrified  into  a promise  no  longer  to 
cherish  his  passion  for  the  fair  heretic  ; but  it  is  needless 
to  say  that  he  did  not  keep  his  word. 

Thenceforward  he  looked  upon  Paoli  as  his  enemy,  and 
played  the  spy  upon  his  every  movement.  During  all 
the  twenty-five  years  of  his  missionary  life,  Paoli  had 
kept  a secret  journal.  For  the  greater  safety,  this  was 
written  in  the  Greek  language,  for  many  of  the  native 
priests  understood  Latin,  Portuguese  and  Spanish,  and 
Paoli  was  in  the  habit  of  recording  things  that  he  would 
have  none  save  himself  and  the  authorities  at  Rome 
know.  During  the  evening  following  Ashizuka’s  address 
to  the  Christians,  while  the  Jesuit  was  engaged  in  a con- 
ference with  the  native  priests,  Shiro  effected  an  entrance 
into  his  private  room,  and  when  he  came  forth,  he  bore 
with  him  a volume  of  the  Jesuit’s  secret  journal  that 
covered  the  years  of  the  young  leader’s  birth  and  early 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  355 

childhood.  Shiro  had  acquired  a slight  knowledge  of 
Greek  while  abroad,— enough  to  enable  him  to  make 
astounding  discoveries  concerning  himself  in  the  pages  of 
Francesco  Paoli’s  journal.  All  that  night  he  sat  in  the  sol- 
itude of  his  own  quarters,  poring  over  the  written  confes- 
sion of  deceit  and  intrigue  before  him,  and  when  the  first 
rays  of  the  late  March  morning  stole  into  the  room,  he  con- 
cealed the  book  in  a secret  alcove  in  the  wall,  and,  then, 
rushing  back  and  forth  the  length  of  the  apartment,  he 
threw  up  his  arms  wildly  and  laughed  and  wept,  until, 
exhausted  with  this  outburst  of  tumultuous  emotion  that 
threatened  to  unseat  his  reason,  he  flung  himself  upon  his 
face  on  the  mats  with  a cry  that  sounded  like  the  shriek 
of  a maniac  : 

“Free,  free!  At  last,  Nirado  Shiro,  thou  art  thyself 
and  not  another  !” 

During  the  week  of  mock  sorties  and  of  preparation 
for  storming  the  enemies’  camp  that  followed,  the  young 
commander-in-chief  and  Bishop  Paoli  were  seen  con- 
stantly together. 


VI. 

THE  EVE  OF  BATTLE. 

Great  crises  in  the  history  of  nations  and  of  individuals 
are  frequently  not  recognized  as  such  until  they  are  past. 
In  a few  cases,  the  man  or  the  people  are  fully  conscious 
that  the  day  lying  just  ahead  is  fraught  with  issues  of  the 
most  stupendous  import.  It  was  thus  with  the  Christians 
in  Hara  Castle,  on  the  evening  following  their  last  sortie. 
The  next  morning  they  had  fixed  upon  as  the  time  in 
which  they  would  stake  their  fortunes  on  the  bloody 
arbitrament  of  war ; the  coming  day  would  decide  the 


356  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


fate  of  the  Church  of  Japan,  and  their  own  personal  weal 
or  woe.  Of  the  result  of  the  approaching  struggle,  their 
minds  admitted  no  doubt  ; the  church  would  conquer. 
Never  were  a people  more  calm,  more  resolute  and  more 
absolutely  confident  of  success.  Before  victory  was 
achieved,  hundreds,  nay,  perchance,  thousands  might 
make  the  triumph  of  their  cause  the  more  sacredly  mem- 
orable by  the  sacrifice  of  their  lives,  but  this  did  not  appall 
them  or  make  them  the  less  impatient  for  the  struggle. 

At  sunset,  the  soldiers,  who  had  been  selected  to  serve 
in  the  attacking  force,  gathered  together  in  the  part  of 
the  castle  where,  a week  before,  Ashizuka  had  addressed 

them.  There  was  a general  movement  among  them  and 
a murmur  of  pleased  surprise,  as  their  young  comman- 
der-in-chief appeared  above  them  on  the  summit  of  one 
of  the  lower  walls.  Since  the  time  when,  through  his  in- 
strumentality, the  castle  had  been  saved  from  the  destruc- 
tion that  Yamada  the  Ronin  had  plotted  to  bring  upon  it, 
Shiro  had  become  more  popular  among  his  people,  and 
the  announcement,  that  in  the  coming  battle  he  would 
appear  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  had  aroused  a most  in- 
tense enthusiasm  among  the  soldiers.  After  the  young 
leader  came  the  other  chief  officers,  and  last  of  all,  Paoli, 
dressed,  for  the  nonce,  in  the  sacred  vestments  of  his  of- 
fice, and  accompanied  by  a youth  bearing  the  crosier. 
Shiro,  stepping  down  into  one  of  the  embrasures,  so  that 
his  feet  were  but  slightly  elevated  above  the  heads  of  the 
warriors  below,  waved  his  hand  to  command  silence,  and 

then,  as  every  eye  was  fixed  upon  him,  he  spoke  : 

“ On  the  morrow,  fellow-Christians  and  soldiers  of  the 
Lord,  we  are  once  again  to  give  the  enemy  battle  ; not 
from  behind  our  defenses,  nor  yet  by  a quick  sally,  a 
dash  upon  their  camp  and  then  a rapid  retreat,  but  by  a 
vigorous  assault  and  a long,  sustained  engagement  in  the 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  357 


open  field,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  hostile  encampment. 
In  our  conflicts  thus  far,  we  have  conquered  ; let  this  in- 
spire us  as  we  go  forth  to-morrow.  We  have  reason, 
moreover,  to  believe  our  stratagem  to  surprise  the 
enemy  will  be  successful.  Our  mock  sorties  of  the  past 
week  have  accomplished  the  object  we  desired,  and  the 
government  troops  will  look  upon  our  movement  to- 
morrow with  the  same  indifference  we  perceived  yester- 
day and  to-day.  Let  us  be  careful  not  to  arouse  their 
suspicions  ; our  hope  of  victory  is  built  upon  finding 
our  enemies  unprepared,  and  then  charging  them  with 
the  utmost  swiftness  and  fury  before  they  have  recover- 
ed from  their  surprise.  Therefore,  be  cool,  be  brave,  be 
steady,  be  obedient  to  the  commands  of  your  officers 
and,  above  all,  court  the  death  of  the  hero,  remembering 
that  it  is  more  honorable  to  fall  in  the  forefront  of  battle 
than  to  be  massacred  within  the  walls  of  a captured 
castle.” 

A loud  shout  of  approval  rolled  up  from  the  multitude 
as  the  speaker  closed  his  harangue,  and  every  eye  glowed 
with  enthusiasm,  and  every  breast  heaved  with  the  tumul- 
tuous excitement  of  the  hour. 

“ Silence,  Sons  of  the  Church  ! I would  speak  a word  ! ” 
It  was  the  voice  of  Paoli,  and  his  tall  form  bowed  down 
from  the  wall,  invoking  silence.  “ Swords  of  God’s  wrath 
upon  the  idolaters!”  he  cried.  “Ye  go  forth  with  to- 
morrow’s rising  sun  to  visit  Heaven’s  vengeance  upon  the 
heads  of  the  enemies  of  your  faith.  Ye  shall  be  victorious 
if  ye  but  go  forth  with  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts 
and  of  the  Holy  Mother  of  God.  To  the  chapel,  then,  O 
my  children  ! This  night  shall  your  father  and  bishop 
stand  by  the  altar  with  the  priests.  To-night  shall  he 
shrive  and  bless  you  ; to-morrow  he  shall  fight  by  your 
sides.  To  the  chapel,  all!  Confession  and  prayer!” 


358  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries . 


and  raising  his  hands  in  silentbenediction  over  the  multi- 
tude, the  bishop  turned  and  would  have  descended  from 
the  wall  after  the  other  leaders,  had  not  a hand  been  laid 
upon  his  shoulder.  He  looked  around  and  sawShiro. 

“Good  father  and  bishop,”  said  the  young  man,  point- 
ing toward  the  encampment  of  the  enemy,  “ this  time,  to- 
morrow eve,  if  we  stand  here  and  look  yonder,  what  shall 
we  see  ? ” 

Shiro  spoke  with  an  earnestness  and  a cordiality  that 
was  wholly  unassumed,  and  as  he  looked  into  his  com- 
panion’s face  he  saw  there  a returning  gleam  of  the  old 
time  friendliness.  In  the  general  euthusiasm  and  the 
thrilling  excitement  of  the  hour  both  men  had,  for  the 
moment,  forgotten  their  bitterness  toward  each  other. 

“The  blackened  ruins  of  the  camp  of  the  infidel,”  was 
Paoli’s  prompt  response  to  the  young  leader’s  question. 
“ As  you  looked  down  to-night  into  the  faces  of  the  men, 
Shiro,  what  saw  you  written  there?” 

“ Victory  ! ” the  other  cried  enthusiastically.  “ Never 
did  general  lead  forth  warriors  more  sanguine  of  success 
and  more  invincibly  bold  than  shall  I upon  the  morrow. 
But,  good  father,  it  is  not  of  our  assured  triumph  that  I 
would  speak,  but  of  what  is  to  follow.  Often  have  you 
said,  during  the  past  week,  as  you  have  stood  by  my  side 
upon  these  walls  and  looked  away  toward  yonder  moun- 
tain : ‘First,  the  idolaters,  and  then — ’and  I needed  not 
the  aid  of  your  words  to  comprehend  your  meaning.  To- 
morrow, Bishop  Paoli,  it  shall  be  the  idolaters  ; and  then 
what  ? ” 

Shiro  was  keenly  regarding  his  companion.  Paoli’s 
face  was  calm,  but  a hard,  stern  look  had  settled  over  his 
features — a look  that  ill  became  a priest  of  God  who  was 
soon  to  stand  by  the  altar,  shriving  and  blessing  the  souls 
of  men.  His  eyes  burned  down  into  those  of  the  young 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  359 


man.  There  was  a minute’s  silence,  and  then  he  said 
somewhat  coldly  : 

“ To-morrow  the  idolaters.” 

The  shadow  of  a smile  flitted  over  the  young  man’s 
face.  He  thrust  his  hand  into  the  wide  sleeve  of  his  haori 
and  drew  forth  the  soiled  and  crumpled  paper,  which  he 
had  picked  up  in  the  hermitage  of  Lord  Mori  of  Unzen. 
Holding  this  out  to  the  bishop,  he  said  quietly  : 

“Read  this,  good  father,  and  then  speak  again.” 

Paoli  took  the  proffered  paper  and  read  it,  Shiro  the 
meanwhile  intently  observing  his  face  ; but  no  expression 
of  sudden  surprise  or  other  emotion  changed  the  sphinx- 
like  calm  of  that  impassive  countenance.  He  read  the 
paper  through  to  the  end,  looked  up  and  cast  a passing 
glance  toward  Unzen  ; then  read  the  words  before  him 
again,  once  more  gazed  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
mountain  ; then  folding  up  the  letter  slowly  and  careful- 
ly, he  placed  it  in  his  bosom.  Turning  his  eyes  upon 
Shiro,  he  said,  in  a voice  that  sounded  like  the  ring  of 
metal  upon  metal  : 

“ To-morrow  the  idolaters,  and  likewise  the  other.” 
Scarcely  had  he  spoken,  when  the  heavy  boom  of  a 
cannon  broke  the  stillness  of  the  evening  air.  Both 
men  looked  quickly  toward  the  hostile  camp,  but  no  in- 
dications were  visible  that  the  shot  had  been  fired  there. 
Paoli  was  the  first  to  turn  his  eyes  toward  the  bay. 

“Ah  ! he  exclaimed,  startled  out  of  his  composure  : 
“the  Spuyten  Duyvil ! 

And  the  Spuytin  Duyvil  it  certainly  was.  With  every 
sail  set,  she  was  speeding  along  her  course,  and  in  a short 
time  would  be  opposite  the  castle.  For  a few  minutes, 
the  two  men  watched  the  swiftly  approaching  ship  in 
silence.  A loud  joyful  shout  from  the  government  camp, 
as  the  soldiers  caught  sight  of  the  foreign  vessel,  aroused 


360  Pao'li ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  watchers  upon  the  wall  from  the  reverie  into  which 
they  both  had  fallen.  Shiro  seized  his  companion’s  arm. 

“ Good  father,  what  of  the  morrow  ?”  and  the  speaker 
pointed  toward  the  ship. 

The  Jesuit’s  face  was  lit  up  with  an  assuring  smile. 

“As  certainly  ours,  my  son,  as  are  the  promises  of  God  ?” 
And  with  these  words,  the  bishop  and  the  young  leader, 
side  by  side,  descended  from  the  wall. 

In  the  outer  division  of  the  fortress,  the  two  men 
separated,  Paoli  hastening  to  the  chapel,  where  already 
avast  throng  of  soldiers  had  gathered. 


VII. 

NIRADO  SHIRO  MAKES  HIS  FATE. 

After  Bishop  Paoli  had  left  him,  Shiro  passed  through 
the  several  divisions  of  the  castle  until  he  reached  the 
low  wall  that  was  built  along  the  very  brink  of  the  prom- 
ontory. Mounting  this  he  gazed  off  in  the  direction  of 
the  coming  ship.  On  either  side  of  the  Christian  fortress, 
the  beach  was  black  with  thousands  of  spectators  from 
the  camp.  As  Shiro  looked  down  upon  them,  he  per- 
ceived a small  company  of  mounted  warriors  making 
their  way  through  the  thick  press  toward  the  shore.  In 
the  van  rode  the  standard-bearer,  and  it  needed  but  a 
glance  at  the  banner  which  he  bore  to  tell  the  Christian 
leader  that  Nabeshima,  the  Prince  of  Kai,  was  there. 

“ The  Englishman  must  have  gone  back  to  Nagasaki, 
and  is  now  returning  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil,”  he 
mused,  as  lie  watched  the  horsemen.  “ The  prince  is 
evidently  going  off  to  meet  him.  Strange,  strange,  that 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  361 


friendship  which  has  so  suddenly  grown  up  between 
those  two  ! ” 

While  he  stood  there  on  the  wall,  idly  watching 
Nabeshima  and  his  retainers  as  they  gave  their  horses  to 
the  keeping  of  the  bettos,  and,  springing  into  a waiting 
boat,  pushed  off  in  the  direction  of  the  Spuyten  Duyvil, 
Shiro  felt  a light  touch  on  his  arm,  and,  turning  round, 
he  looked  down  into  the  eyes  of  Ine  Tanaka.  The 
woman's  thin,  pale  face  struck  a pang  of  remorse  to  his 
heart.  He  felt  an  impulse  to  fall  at  her  feet  and  to  ask 
her  forgiveness  ; but  the  face  of  Una  of  Unzen  seemed 
to  rise  up  between  them,  the  generous  feeling  passed 
away,  and  the  faithless  lover  hardened  his  heart  toward 
the  woman  whose  unspeakable  sorrow  it  was  that  she 
loved  him  too  well. 

“ Ine  Tanaka  ! thou  here  ?”  he  exclaimed,  in  a coldly 
questioning  tone. 

“Ay,  my  Lord,”  the  woman  replied  calmly,  her  eyes 
dropping  before  the  hard,  stern  look  Shiro  bent  upon 
her.  “ Thy  servant  has  come  to  ask  a favor,” 

“To  me  ! and  to  ask  a favor.” 

“To  thee,  and  for  a favor.  Art  thou  not  our  leader  ?” 
— and  Shiro  noted  the  omission  of  any  reference  to  his 
divine  appointment.  “To  whom  else,”  the  woman  con- 
tinued, “is  it  fitting  that  the  suppliant  should  go?” 

Ine's  gentle  dignity  touched  the  man’s  heart. 

“Speak  on,”  he  said  more  kindly  than  he  had  yet 
spoken. 

“My  Lord,  I hear  that  thou  art  to  lead  our  army  in 
person  during  to-morrow’s  battle.  Is  it  so?” 

“It  is,”  he  replied  ; and  then,  seeing  the  pained  look 
that  his  words  brought  to  the  woman's  face,  he  added  : 
“Thou  hast  just  called  me  the  leader  of  our  brethren  ; 
what  place,  then,  becomes  me  more  than  at  the  head  of 


362  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  warriors  of  the  church,  leading  them  on  to  their 
triumph  over  their  enemies  ? ” 

“Ah,  my  Lord,  where  Heaven  leadeth,  the  guidance 
of  man  is  of  little  moment.  Yet  I would  not  have  thee 
remain  in  the  castle.  Go,  my  Lord,  and  may  the  Holy 
Mother  be  thy  shield  ! Lead  our  friends  on  to  victory  ! 
The  heart  of  thy  servant  will  rejoice  in  the  plaudits  that 
greet  the  conqueror’s  return,  yet  I have  a request — deny 
it  not,  O my  Lord  !” 

Shiro  looked  kindly  into  the  wan  yet  superbly  beauti- 
ful face  before  him.  Again  that  feeling  of  tender  pity- 
akin  to  love  stole  into  his  heart,  but  once  more  he  crushed 
it  down  ; yet  his  voice  trembled  from  the  effort  it  cost 
him,  as  he  again  asked  the  woman  to  speak. 

Ine  waited  long  before  replying.  Her  companion  saw 
her  bosom  rise  and  fall  with  the  deep  emotions  chat 
surged  through  her  soul.  Then,  with  a low,  stifled  cry, 
she  flung  herself  at  Shiro’s  feet,  gasping  out  between  her 
heavy  sobs  : 

“ O my  Lord,  my  Lord  ! — the  Prince  Nabeshima — 
give  me  thy  promise  that  on  the  morrow  thou  shalt  shun 
that  part  of  the  field  where  flies  the  banner  of  Kai  ! My 
Lord,  thy  promise  !” 

Was  it  jealousy,  or  was  it  fear,  or  was  it  hate — that 
terrible  sensation  that  seized  his  heart  and  seemed  to 
suffocate  him  ? Was  he  destined  to  fall  beneath  the 
sword  of  the  Prince  of  Kai  ? Ine’s  dread  of  his  meeting 
Nabeshima  seemed  to  have  something  terrifying  in  it. 
Fearless  as  he  was,  it  unmanned  him.  Controlling  hi; 
voice  by  a mighty  effort,  he  spoke  to  the  kneeling 
woman  : 

•‘Rise,  Ine  Tanaka  ! Thou  wouldst  not  have  me  cra- 
venly  to  flee  from  before  the  face  of  my  foe,  should  he 
search  me  out  as  he  did  last  Christmas  morn.  Yet  thou 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  363 


hast  my  promise  that  I shall  not  seek  a combat  with  him 
on  the  morrow.  Should  chance  bring  us  together — why, 
then,  God  and  Holy  Cross  be  my  help  !” 

Again  came  the  well-nigh  irresistible  impulse  to  bow 
himself  to  the  side  of  the  woman  that  knelt  at  his  feet, 
and  asking  her  forgiveness  for  his  past  unfaithfulness,  to 
beseech  her  to  renew  the  betrothal  by  whicn  their  parents 
had  sought  to  unite  them  ; nay,  more,  to  ask  her  to  go 
with  him  to  the  chapel  below,  and,  in  the  presence  of 
the  people,  upon  this  momentous  eve,  to  become  his  wife. 
A voice  within  him  whispered  : “ The  crisis  of  thy  life  is 
upon  thee,  weal  and  woe,  happiness  and  misery,  life  and 
death  lie  before  thee,  choose  !”  and,  alas  ! like  so  many, 
NiradoShiro  chose  the  more  bitter  portion,  though  he 
knew  it  not. 

Was  the  disconsolate  woman  kneeling  before  him 
aware  of  the  struggle  in  his  heart  ? She  rose  in  sad,  yet 
queenly  dignity,  and,  laying  her  hand  on  the  shoulder 
of  the  man  before  her,  said,  with  an  earnestness  that 
thrilled  his  soul  : 

“ Nirado  Shiro,  I thank  thee  for  thy  promise.  It  will 
comfort  me  as  I look  upon  the  battle  to-morrow  ; for 
knowest  thou,  that  though  the  betrothal  that  once  united 
us  exists  no  longer,  yet  Heaven  has  linked  our  destinies 
together  by  a bond  that  cannot  be  broken.” 

The  young  man  stood  awed  before  her  ; her  manner 
struck  a strangely  chilling  fear  to  his  heart.  He  felt 
that  he  must  speak,  but  knew  not  what  to  say. 

“ Ine,  Ine !”  he  cried  in  a distressed  voice;  “thy 
reason  for  asking  the  bishop  to  absolve  you  from  the 
betrothal  between  us  I know  full  well.  My  coldness,  my 
neglect  did  it.  Yet,  yet — Oh  God,  you  do  not  know  !” 

“ I do  know,  Nirado  Shiro,”  the  woman  said  calmly. 
“You  love  another — another,  my  Lord,  whose  heart  will 


364  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries . 


never  be  yours.  Nay,  start  not!  whose  heart  will  never 
be  yours,”  she  repeated  in  a voice  that  sounded  like  a 
wail,  for  she  had  suddenly  remembered  that  such  had 
been  Nabeshima’s  words  spoken  to  herself  concerning 
the  man  now  before  her. 

Shiro  stared  at  her  helplessly.  “ Ine,  let  me  atone  for 
the  pain  I have  given  you,”  he  said  with  a desperate  ef- 
fort to  regain  his  calmness.  “ The  time  draws  on  apace 
when  I shall  be  the  ruler  of  this  nation.  Then,  in  the 
Christian  court  of  our  Japan,  shall  Ine  Tanaka  be  crown- 
ed with  dignity  and  honor,  and,  when  she  weds,  it  shall 
be  the  noblest  of  my  lords.” 

The  woman  before  him  looked  steadily  into  his  face  ; 
he  dared  not  raise  his  eyes  to  hers.  Her  voice  for  the 
first  time  sounded  cold  and  constrained. 

“ My  lord,  I thank  thee  for  thy  assurance  of  favor  ; 
but,  believe  me,  I shall  need  it  not.  My  hand  has  been 
wedded  these  many  years,  and  my  heart  shall  remain 
faithful  to  the  choice  of  my  father  and  mother.  Come, 
my  Lord,”  she  continued  softly  ; “ let  us  go  together  to 
the  chapel.  Once  more  would  I kneel  by  thy  side  in 
prayer.” 


VIII. 

THE  SERVANT  BECOMES  THE  MASTER. 

After  the  Jesuit  had  brought  the  religious  services  in 
the  chapel  to  a close,  he  hastily  sought  the  solitude  of 
his  own  quarters,  his  mind  filled  with  tumultuous  visions 
of  the  victory  and  vengeance  which  the  approaching  day 
was  to  bring  forth.  Never  before  had  Francesco  Paoli 
been  so  deeply  stirred,  never  before  so  nervously  impa- 
tient for  the  hour  of  struggle  to  come.  Upon  both 


Paoli;  the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  365 


heathen  and  heretic  was  soon  to  fall  the  chastisement  of 
a triumphant  church,  and  he  longed,  with  a feverish  ex- 
ultation, for  its  execution  to  begin. 

Then,  Shiro’s  strange  conduct,  during  the  past  week, 
perplexed  him  and  filled  him  with  anxious  apprehension. 
The  young  man  had  sought  his  company  continually, 
and  the  Jesuit  noticed  that  his  self-masterful  spirit  and 
his  courteous  yet  independent  bearing  had  been  growing 
more  marked  as  the  days  passed  by.  It  indeed  seemed 
as  if  Nirado  Shiro  had  purposely  associated  with  the 
Jesuit  in  order  that  he  might  school  himself  into  a more 
and  more  complete  resistance  to  the  latter’s  mysterious 
influence  over  him  in  preparation  for  some  contemplated 
action  calling  for  an  open  defiance. 

As  Paoli  was  walking  back  and  forth  in  his  room, 
suddenly  he  stopped.  A livid  pallor  overspread  his 
features,  his  eyes,  wildly  staring,  seemed  to  be  fixed 
upon  some  distant  imaginary  object,  and  his  breath  came 
in  quick  hard  sobs.  For  a minute  or  two  he  stood  thus, 
and  then  with  a low  shuddering  moan,  he  fell  prostrate 
to  the  floor.  Whatever  it  was  that  he  had  been  per- 
mitted to  see  in  the  trance  that  had  just  left  him,  no 
no  good  could  it  have  boded  either  to  himself,  or  to  his 
long  cherished  hopes,  for,  when  nearly  an  hour  later,  he 
recovered  from  the  swoon  into  which  he  had  fallen,  his 
face  was  haggard  and  anguished,  and  his  eyes  shone 
with  an  awful  terror,  such  as  might  be  his  to  whom  had 
been  vouchsafed  a vision  of  earth’s  universal  doom. 

The  voice  of  some  one  without  calling  for  admission 
aroused  him,  and  before  he  could  sufficiently  collect  him- 
self to  respond,  the  sliding  doors  were  swept  apart  and 
Nirado  Shiro  entered  the  room.  Without  perceiving  the 
bishop’s  agitation  in  the  dim  light  shed  from  a solitary 
candle  at  the  further  side  of  the  apartment,  the  young  man 


366  Paoli ; the  Last- of  the  Missionaries. 


at  once  hastened  to  make  known  the  reason  of  his  visit. 
Paoli,  on  the  morrow,  was  planning  to  go  to  Unzen,  and 
Shiro  purposed  accompanying  him  that  he  might  bring 
Una  Mori  to  the  castle  with  the  intention  of  making  her 
his  wife. 

While  Shiro  was  speaking,  the  Jesuit,  by  a mighty 
effort,  succeeded  in  crushing  down  all  visible  traces  of 
his  recent  agitation,  and  when  the  young  leader  had  con- 
cluded, he  motioned  him  to  a seat  by  his  side,  and  then 
proceeded  to  make  a final  appeal  to  him  to  heed  the  will 
of  his  parents  and  the  wishes  of  the  people  by  marrying 
the  woman  to  whom  in  childhood  he  had  been  betrothed. 
Shiro  heard  the  words  of  the  elder  man  in  scornful 
silence,  his  face  darkening  with  vexatious  impatience  ; 
and  as  the  Jesuit  looked  upon  him  and  perceived  the 
sullen  defiance  that  clouded  his  features,  he  realized 
that  the  long-expected  rupture  between  this  man  and 
himself  was  at  hand.  With  an  uneasiness  that  even  his 
marvellous  self-control  could  not  wholly  hide  from  the 
keen  eyes  of  his  companion,  he  waited  for  Shiro  to  speak. 
At  length  came  the  hotly  impetuous  reply  : 

“ I shall  have  a wife  of  my  own  choosing,  or  I shall 
have  none.  I shall  not  marry  Ine,  much  as  I respect  and 
honor  her.  But  why  speak  of  this  at  all  ? We  are  no 
more  to  each  other  ; she  asked  you  to  absolve  her  from  her 
betrothal  to  me,  and  you  did  so.  You  censure  me  for 
my  love  for  Una  Mori.  Methinks,  good  bishop,  it  is 
your  hatred  for  the  father  that  taints  your  feelings 
toward  the  daughter.  Nay,  I shall  have  her  ; with  your 
consent,  I trust,  but  without  it  if  need  be.  We  shall  go 
to  Unzen  together  to-morrow,  and  you,  who  have  blamed 
me  for  going,  have  you  well  considered  the  motives  that 
lead  you  thither  ? I go  to  save,  you,  bishop  Paoli,  to 
destroy  ” 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  36  7 


The  Jesuit’s  strangely  luminous  eyes  burned  down 
into  those  of  the  young  man.  He  rose  to  his  feet  and 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  other’s  shoulder. 

“ Nirado  Shiro,”  and  his  voice  sounded  harsh  and  con- 
strained, “ it  ill  behooves  us  to  permit  a shadow  to  fall 
across  the  pathway  of  our  friendship  on  the  eve  of  our 
coming  victory.  You  charge  me  with  hating  Lord  Mori 
of  Unzen.  I hate  no  man.  Years  ago,  when  he  left  the 
bosom  of  the  church,  I endeavored  with  all  the  power  I 
had  to  bring  him  back,  but  he  scorned  my  efforts.  He 
sought  to  corrupt  others.  Then  it  was  that  I would 
have  slain  him,  but  he  escaped.  Long  years  have  passed 
since  then,  and  the  letter  you  to-night  gave  me  proves 
him  to  be  still  an  apostate  and  a foe  of  the  church.  As 
such,  he  shall  suffer  on  the  morrow  the  long-delayed 
penalty  of  his  crime,  which  I,  in  behalf  of  peace  and 
purity  of  the  faith,  shall  mete  out  to  him.” 

Shiro  laughed  bitterly,  and  would  have  spoken, 
but  Paoli’s  hand  tightened  its  grasp  upon  his  shoulder, 
and  the  Jesuit’s  voice,  coldly  menacing,  continued  : 

“ Hold,  I have  not  yet  finished,  Nirado  Shiro  ! 
Formerly  it  was  your  delight  to  do  the  will  of  the  church; 
but  of  late  you  have  refused  to  listen  to  her  voice. 
Beware  ! As  bishop  of  the  Church  of  Japan,  I would 
warn  you  to  beware  how,  in  this  crisis  of  her  fortunes, 
you  trifle  with  her  interests.  You  are  already  a traitor 
to  the  trust  your  brethren  have  reposed  in  you  ; as  such, 
it  were  fitting  that  you  were  brought  before  our  holy 
inquisition.  You  can  escape  this  in  only  one  way — by 
now  renewing  your  oath  of  consecration  to  the  church, 
and  by  swearing  obedience  to  her  will,  as  made  known  to 
you  through  her  constituted  authorities.  Do  you 
consent  ?” 

Francesco  Paoli  had  shot  the  ecclesiastical  despot’s 


368  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


fast,  and  most  powerful  bolt,  a bolt  that  has  prostrated 
many  a proud  soul  in  the  dust  of  humiliation,  and 
brought  it  back,  cowed  and  repentant,  to  obedience  to 
the  voice  of  the  church.  Would  it  be  thus  in  the  case  of 
Nirado  Shiro  ? 

The  young  Christian  chief  was  on  his  feet,  and,  in 
place  of  the  look  of  humbled  submission,  which  the 
Jesuit  had  expected  to  see,  his  face  wore  an  expression 
of  haughty  defiance,  and  when  he  spoke,  his  voice  had 
that  calm  firmness  that  comes  from  the  confident  assur- 
ance that  the  speaker  is  about  to  win  a victory. 

“Francesco  Paoli!” — the  bishop  started  at  his  com- 
panion’s manner  of  addressing  him — “Francesco  Paoli  !” 
Shiro  repeated,  fixing  his  eyes  sternly  upon  those  of  the 
Jesuit,  “ the  time  has  come  for  us  to  understand  each 
other,  and  I rejoice  that  it  has  been  yourself  who  has 
precipitated  this  inevitable  interview.  Once  upon  the 
Spuyten  Duyvil,  before  your  disguise  was  discovered,  the 
Dutch  captain,  in  speaking  of  you,  said  to  me  : ‘ The 
Japanese  Christians  ought  to  hate  that  Paoli  as  heartily 
as  do  the  heathen,  for  he  has  been  the  cause  of  all  their 
sufferings  for,  at  least,  the  past  twenty  years.’  When  I 
heard  his  words,  I felt  the  indignant  blood  flame  to  my 
face,  and  I longed  to  give  him  the  lie  in  his  teeth  and 
smite  him  down  where  he  stood.  To-night,  Francesco 
Paoli,  I believe  his  wrords  expressed  nothing  but  the 
truth.” 

The  Jesuit’s  face  had  grown  deathly  pale,  and  his  hands 
were  convulsively  clasped  before  him.  He  made  an 
attempt  to  speak,  but  his  voice  died  away  in  an  inarticu- 
late murmur. 

“Mark  me!”  continued  Shiro,  “ you  and  your  fellow- 
priests  from  Europe  came  here  to  teach  us  your  religion  ; 
but  for  one  word  you  taught  us  of  Christ,  you  preached 


TURNING  ROUND,  HE  LOOKED  DOWN  INTO  THE  EYES  OF  1NE  TANAKA. — See  Page  361 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  371 

a thousand  concerning  the  church  and  the  duty  of  obey- 
ing her.  You  made  us  rebels  in  the  eyes  of  our  country- 
men ; you  told  us  our  ruler  lived  not  in  Yedo,  neither  in 
Kyoto,  but  in  Rome.” 

Paoli  roused  himself  sufficiently  to  exclaim  : 

“ You  are  wild,  insane,  Nirado  Shiro  ! Where  are  your 
proofs  ?” 

A bitter,  mocking  laugh  burst  from  the  young  leader’s 
lips.  He  came  close  to  the  Jesuit’s  side,  and  said  in 
almost  a whisper  : 

“It  were  well  for  you,  Francesco  Paoli,  that  I were 
mad — or  dead.  You  ask  for  proofs  ? Mount  the  walls 
of  this  beleaguered  castle  and  you  will  behold  the  count- 
less camp-fires  of  our  countrymen  who  have  been  sent 
hither  to  punish  us  for  our  treason.  But  I have  other 
proofs.  Bishop  Paoli,  where  keep  you  your  secret  jour- 
nal ?” 

With  an  exclamation  that  sounded  more  like  a curse 
than  a pious  ejaculation,  the  Jesuit  sprang  backward  and 
stood  regarding  his  calmly  smiling  companion  with  a look 
of  terrified  amazement. 

“ Let  me  warn  you,”  observed  Shiro,  quietly,  but  with 
a significant  glance  at  Paoli’s  arms  hanging  on  the  wall, 
“ that  you  exercise  a proper  control  over  yourself  as  you 
listen  to  wrhat  I have  now  to  say.  Nearly  a score  of  my 
body-guard  are  in  my  confidence  in  this  matter.  They 
are  now  at  the  door,  and  a call  from  me,  or  even  the 
sound  of  a blow  will  summon  them  into  the  room,  and 
once  here,  Francesco  Paoli,  your  doom  is  sealed.” 

The  Jesuit  sank  to  the  floor  with  a groan.  He  knew 
what  was  in  store  for  him.  Burying  his  face  in  his  hands, 
he  burst  into  tears.  Shiro’s  lip  curled  with  contempt  as 
he  resumed  : 

“The  secret  journal  which  you  have  kept  for  years  is 


372  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


now  in  my  possession.  How  I came  by  it  is  not  for  you 
to  hear.  Let  it  suffice  you  to  understand  that  I know 
now  the  deception  which  you  and  your  fellow-priests 
practiced  upon  the  people  of  my  native  village.  It  was 
you  who  wrote  on  that  rock — but  in  what  way  I know 
not— the  prophecy  concerning  a coming  deliverer  among 
the  Christians.  It  was  you  who  made  them  believe  that 
I was  that  deliverer.  It  was  you  who  induced  my  pa- 
rents to  betroth  me  to  the  daughter  of  Toranosuke  Tana- 
ka. It  was  you  who  led  them  to  send  me  to  the  Jesuits’ 
college  in  the  Philippines,  that  I might  there  become  your 
obedient  tool  for  the  accomplishment  of  your  designs.” 

The  young  leader  again  paused,  and  stood  waiting  for 
the  man  at  his  feet  to  speak.  But  Paoli  made  no  attempt 
to  reply  to  the  accusations  Shiro  had  hurled  against  him. 
Heavy  sobs  shook  his  frame  and  the  great,  hot  tears 
trickled  down  through  his  fingers  and  fell  upon  the  floor. 
Perceiving  that  his  companion  would  not  speak,  Shiro 
went  on  : 

“Francesco  Paoli,  I flatter  myself  that  I have  been  an 
apt  pupil.  I have  imbibed  the  lessons  of  deceit  and  cun- 
ning craftiness  that  by  both  precept  and  example  have 
been  constantly  set  before  me.  You  thought  you  were 
deceiving  me  and  making  such  use  of  me  as  you  would. 
But  know  that  you  are  hereafter  to  be  merely  a tool  in 
my  hands.  If  you  are  willing  still  to  serve  me,  I am 
agreed  ; if  you  are  not,  this  castle  has  no  place  for  you. 
You  have  made  me  what  I am.  I,  who  once  conscien- 
tiously believed  that  I was  elected  of  Heaven  for  the  ac- 
complishment of  a great  mission,  acknowledge  now  no 
worthier  motive  for  retaining  my  position  as  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  Christians  than  worldly  ambition.  If  we 
conquer  in  to-morrow’s  battle,  there  is  a good  prospect 
for  the  Christian  cause.  You  and  I shall  still  speak  of 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


373 


my  divine  mission.  It  has  a good  sound,  and  the  people 
so  long  deceived  by  it,  like  to  hear  it.  With  their  triumph 
I shall  become  powerful — a prince — ’nay,  why  not,  as  you 
once  told  me  it  was  the  will  of  Providence  and  the  inten- 
tion of  the  church  to  make  me — the  first  Christian  ruler 
of  Japan  ?” 

The  last  words  were  uttered  in  a tone  of  mocking 
irony,  which,  however,  was  lost  upon  the  now  thoroughly 
spiritless  creature  at  his  feet.  With  a smile  of  triumph, 
the  speaker  hastened  to  conclude  the  interview. 

“ We  understand  each  other  now.  Bishop  Paoli.  So 
iong  as  you  serve  my  interests  you  are  safe  ; as  soon  as 
you  lead  me  even  to  suspect  treachery,  I shall  hand  you 
over  to  the  government.  And  now,  side  by  side,  shall 
we  go  into  battle,  and  together  we  shall  go  to  Unzen.  I 
approve  of  your  proposed  punishment  of  Lord  Mori.  I 
foresee  how  he  might  become  a pernicious  influence  in  the 
church.  Yet,  see  to  it  well,  that  you  harm  not  his  daugh- 
ter, either  now  or  hereafter.” 

And,  with  a look  of  triumphant  exultation  upon  his 
face.  Nirado  Shiro  went  forth  from  the  room,  scarcely 
deigning  a glance  at  the  cowering  wretch  upon  the  floor. 


IX. 


A REMARKABLE  RE-CONQUEST. 

Morning  came,  and  with  it  the  sound  of  preparations 
for  the  coming  strife.  Shiro  had  spent  the  few  hours 
since  leaving  Paoli’s  quarters  moodily  pacing  up  and 
down  his  own  apartment.  One  of  his  attendants  now 
appeared,  to  inform  him  that  the  troops  were  almost 
in  readiness,  and  that  as  soon  as  he  had  breakfasted  it 
would  be  time  to  move  upon  the  foe.  But  the  young 


374  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


leader,  too  nervous  and  agitated  to  think  of  eating,  re- 
fused to  have  the  food  brought  before  him,  and,  hastily 
putting  on  his  armor,  he  hurried  out  into  the  first  division 
of  the  castle,  where  the  troops  were  to  assemble.  In  the 
gateway  he  met  Paoli,  who  had  evidently  stationed  him 
self  there  in  waiting  for  him.  The  bishop  was  clad  from 
head  to  foot  in  his  suit  of  European  mail,  over  which  he 
had  thrown  a loose,  flowing  mantle  of  Japanese  cloth, 
that  the  government  troops  might  not  detect  his  presence 
among  the  Christians.  Despite  his  most  strenuous  effort, 
Shiro  could  not  avoid  showing  the  trepidation  into  which 
the  sudden  appearance  of  the  Jesuit  threw  him.  He 
trembled  so  violently  that  his  sword-hilts  smote  together, 
his  heart  leaped  into  his  throat,  and  it  seemed  to  him 
that  all  the  blood  in  his  body  was  burning  in  his  face. 

Paoli  pretended  not  to  notice  his  excitement,  as  he  in- 
quired pleasantly  : 

“ Hast  thou  breakfasted,  son  ? It  seems  but  a minute 
ago  that  I sent  in  your  servant  to  call  you  to  your  morn- 
ing meal.” 

The  young  man  tried  to  push  past  the  bishop  ; he 
found  himself  too  excited  to  risk  speech.  With  a soft 
laugh,  Paoli  extended  his  hand  and  stopped  him. 

“ Nay,  my  son,  there  is  yet  time  ; the  troops  will  not 
be  ready  this  half  hour.  I beg  of  you  to  recollect  that 
we  have  a hard  day  before  us,  with  little  respite  for  re- 
freshing the  body.  You  must  eat,  my  son,  if  you  would 
not  faint  in  the  presence  of  the  foe.”  And,  drawing 
Shiro’s  arm  within  his  own,  the  bishop  led  him  back  to 
his  quarters,  and  ordered  the  attendant  to  serve  break- 
fast. 

The  young  man  was  dumfounded.  Was  this  the 
humbled  wretch  that  only  a few  hours  before  had  crouched 
at  his  feet?  Shiro  had  not  yet  dared  to  raise  his  eyes; 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  375 


but  now  he  stole  a furtive  glance  at  the  Jesuit.  No  trace 
of  the  terror  that  had  convulsed  those  calm,  majestic 
features  remained;  the  thick-falling  tears  which  he  had 
beheld  a short  time  ago  had  left  no  stain  upon  that 
quietly  smiling  face.  Never  had  he  beheld  the  bishop 
more  thoroughly  self-possessed  than  at  present.  Involun- 
tarily Shiro  passed  his  hand  across  his  brow,  as  if  he 
would  rid  his  mind  of  some  incubus  that  oppressed  it. 
Had  he,  after  all,  been  dreaming?  Was  his  memory  of 
a rupture  with  the  Jesuit  nothing  more  than  the  waking 
recollections  of  a hideous  nightmare  ? 

Shiro  Seated  himself  on  the  mats  before  Paoli  and  tried 
to  eat  ; but  his  hand  was  so  unsteady  that  it  was  with 
difficulty  he  raised  the  food  to  his  mouth,  and  even  the 
water  seemed  to  choke  him.  He  inwardly  cursed  him- 
self for  thus  yielding  to  this  feeling  of  indefinable  dread 
in  the  presence  of  the  man  before  him.  He  tried  to  re- 
member how  he  had,  but  a short  time  ago  gained  the  mas- 
tery over  Paoli;  how  he  had  wrung  bitter  tears  from  him; 
how  he  had  dictated  even  the  terms  on  which  he  would 
spare  his  life.  Then  he  resolved  to  make  a desperate 
effort  to  break  down  the  increasing  power  which  the 
Jesuit  was  gaining  over  him;  for  he  felt  that  some  subtle, 
magnetic  influence  was  going  forth  from  the  calmly  smil- 
ing being  before  him,  and  was  weaving  anew  its  irresis- 
tible spell  over  his  soul.  With  a spring  he  was  on  his 
feet  and  standing  face  to  face  with  the  Jesuit. 

The  picture  which  the  two  men  at  that  instant  pre- 
sented was  a striking  one.  The  younger  man,  wildly  ex- 
cited and  trembling,  and  on  his  face  the  fierce  play  of  the 
contending  emotions  of  defiance  and  submission  that, 
like  a tempest,  were  sweeping  through  his  soul,  stood 
with  both  his  hands  upraised  as  if  to  strike,  while  his 
knees  bent  forward  as  if  he  was  just  in  the  act  of  bowing 


376  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


himself  before  his  companion  ; the  elder  man,  stiffly 
erect  and  motionless  as  a statue,  and  with  the  muscles  of 
his  neck  and  face  standing  out  like  whip-cords,  appeared 
to  be  throwing  all  the  powers  of  his  being  into  the  intense 
gaze  he  fastened  on  the  eyes  of  the  man  before  him.  For 
a minute  they  remained  thus.  Then  Shiro’s  hands  slowly 
opened  and  his  arms  dropped  to  his  side  ; his  knees  sank 
to  the  floor,  and  the  next  instant  he  had  flung  himself  at 
the  Jesuit’s  feet. 

“ Forgive  me,  good  father  Bishop,”  he  groaned  ; “ I 
have  sinned  against  thee,  forgive  me  !” 

The  rigid  look  had  vanished  from  Paoli’s  face  as  Shiro 
fell  to  the  floor  ; but  no  smile  of  triumph  lit  up  the  calm, 
sphinx-like  countenance  of  this  strange  being  who  thus 
again  had  established  his  empire  over  his  companion’s 
soul.  No  trace  of  emotion  marred  the  quiet  gentleness  of 
his  voice  as,  assisting  the  young  man  to  his  feet,  he  said  : 

“ Say  no  more,  my  son,  I prefer  to  think  of  it  as  my  own 
weakness,  and  not  the  mistake  of  another.  But  I promise 
you,  son,  not  so  to  forget  myself  again  ; but  come,  let  us 
go  to  our  troops.” 

So  saying,  Paoli  once  again  linked  his  arm  in  that  of 
Shiro,  and  the  two  hastened  to  the  place  where  their 
body-guards  were  awaiting  them.  As  they  passed  among 
the  soldiers,  the  men  commented  upon  their  looks. 
“ How  well  our  good  bishop  Paoli  appears  this  morning! 
Hard  will  it  fare  with  the  heathen  that  come  within  swing 
of  that  ax  !”  “ Is  General  Shiro  ill  ? See  how  pale  he 

is  ! Saints  and  angels  defend  him  in  the  battle  to-day!” 
were  a few  of  the  remarks  that  reached  the  ears  of  the 
Jesuit  and  his  companion,  as  they  hurried  to  their  places. 

In  a short  time,  the  columns  of  the  Christian  army  were 
in  motion,  slowly  filing  through  the  gates  of  the  castle. 
Paoli  remained  by  Shiro’s  side,  and,  as  the  two  passed  out 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


o// 


of  the  fortress,  the  young  commander-in-chief  looked  up 
and  beheld  the  figure  of  Ine  Tanaka  on  the  summit  of  the 
outer  wall,  and  his  heart  throbbed  as  if  it  would  break 
through  his  side.  He  felt  that  the  Jesuit’s  eyes  were 
upon  him,  and  he  knew  himself  to  be  still  under  their 
powerful  spell.  Almost  involuntarily,  he  waved  his  hand 
to  the  woman,  and,  reining  in  his  horse,  stood  looking  up 
to  her,  as  she  leaned  over  the  wall,  smiling  down  upon 
him.  The  noise  of  the  marching  troops  rendered  an  in- 
terchange of  speech  impossible,  but  he  saw  her  unfasten 
something  from  her  breast  and  drop  it  at  his  feet. 

“She  has  given  you  her  crucifix,  my  son,”  the  bish- 
op’s soft  voice  broke  in  at  his  side.  “ Take  it,  and  may 
it  be  a talisman  to  you  and  to  our  cause  this  day.” 

Shiro  had  dismounted  and  was  now  fastening  the  gold 
cross  to  the  breast  of  his  armor.  When  he  had  done  this, 
he  again  looked  up  at  Ine  with  a smile  and  a bow  of 
thanks.  The  woman's  face  had  grown  radiant  with  the 
happiness  his  acceptance  of  her  gift  had  given  her.  Shiro 
perceived  this,  and  a pang  of  remorse  smote  him.  He 
would  not  kindle  a false  hope  in  this  woman’s  breast;  he 
would  return  to  her  the  token  she  had  dropped  at  his 
feet.  He  looked  around  to  see  some  one  by  whom  he 
could  send  the  gold  cross  back  to  its  owner,  and  his  hand 
stole  to  his  breast  to  unfasten  it  from  his  armor.  Was 
the  man  at  his  side  conscious  of  his  sudden  resolution  ? 
Shiro  again  felt  steal  over  him  that  mysterious  influence 
which  a short  time  before  had  compelled  him  to  prostrate 
himself  at  the  Jesuit’s  feet. 

“We  must  be  going,  my  son,”  he  heard  the  calm,  meas- 
ured voice  of  the  bishop  say  to  him.  “ Happy  warrior  ! 
God,  who  hears  the  interceding  petitions  of  His  saints  on 
earth,  shall  make  the  prayers  of  yonder  pure  and  noble 


378  Paoli ; the  Past  of  the  / Missionaries . 


maiden  thy  sure  defense  against  the  weapons  of  thy  foes. 
Come,  mount  and  forward,  my  son,  in  the  name  of  Christ 
and  Holy  Cross  !” 

And  Shiro,  vaulting  lightly  into  his  saddle,  rode  on  by 
the  side  of  Paoli  toward  the  camp  of  the  infidel. 

And  beyond  lay  the  hermitage  of  the  heretic,  Lord  Mori 
of  Unzen. 


HOOK  ELEVEN. 


DEATH  HAS  MANY  DOORS  TO  LET  OUT  LIFE. 

I. 

IN  THE  CAMP  OF  KAI. 


LEAR  and  beautiful  had  dawn- 
ed the  morning  of  this  mem- 
orable tenth  of  March.  Not 
a cloud  was  in  the  sky,  and  though  the  wind  blew  fresh 
and  chill  from  the  gulf,  yet  the  air  was  clear  and  invigor- 
ating. At  an  early  hour  the  camp  of  Matsudaira  was 

[379] 


380  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


astir  with  life.  A large  number  of  soldiers  had,  the 
evening  before,  secured  the  commander-in-chief’s  permis- 
sion to  repair  to  a plain  about  a mile  away,  to  engage  in 
athletic  sports,  and,  long  before  sunrise,  hundreds  were 
hurrying  out  of  the  camp  toward  the  place  of  meeting.  Of 
those  who  remained,  many  were  taking  advantage  of  the 
fair  weather  to  clean  their  booths  or  to  polish  their  armor. 
The  brightness  of  the  day  seemed  to  impart  an  unwonted 
vivacity  to  the  spirits  of  the  men.  Merry  laughter  and 
snatches  of  song  were  heard  rising  from  every  part  of  the 
vast  encampment. 

On  the  summit  of  a small  hill  on  the  extreme  southern 
border  of  the  camp  were  stationed  the  twelve  thousand 
warriors  who  wore  the  crest  of  Kai.  Nabeshima’s  quar- 
ters were  pitched  in  a small  grove  of  camphor-trees,  that 
covered  the  top  of  the  hill,  the  booths  of  his  soldiers 
stretching  backward  along  the  ridge  and  down  into  the 
valley  beyond.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  sunrise  found  the 
men,  their  morning  meal  finished,  gathered  in  merrily 
laughing  groups,  or  busily  engaged  in  polishing  their 
arms,  and  the  metal  parts  of  their  suits  of  mail. 

“The  prince  is  late  this  morning,”  observed  one  of  the 
guards  to  his  associate,  as  the  two  stood  before  their 
chieftain’s  quarters.  “It  cannot  be,”  added  the  speaker, 
a shade  of  anxiety  in  his  voice,  “ that  our  lord  is  ill  ?” 

“Nay,  I think  not,”  responded  the  other.  “Thou 
knowest  that  he  brought  his  English  friend  home  with 
him  last  night  from  the  foreign  ship.  It  was  long  past 
midnight  before  the  two  retired  to  rest.” 

“ Wonderful,  is  it  not,  the  love  our  lord  has  conceived 
for  that  barbarian  ?” 

“ Hush  !”  exclaimed  the  second  speaker,  warningly. 
“The  prince  comes!”  Then,  in  an  undertone:  “Let 

me  advise  you  to  be  careful  how  you  speak  of  our  lord’s 


Pooh ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  381 


friend.  Ill  will  it  fare  with  him  whom  Prince  Nabeshima 
hears  calling  the  Englishman  a barbarian.” 

The  prince  had  now  come  up  to  the  two  speakers,  who 
greeted  him  with  low  bows.  Returning  their  salutations 
with  a smile,  Nabeshima  said  : 

“My  friend  is  still  asleep.  When  he  awakes,  let  the 
servants  be  at  hand  to  wait  upon  him,  and  have  food 
placed  before  him.” 

With  this,  he  set  out  on  his  daily  tour  of  inspection 
through  the  camp  of  his  followers.  Upon  every  one  he 
met  he  bestowed  a pleasant  smile  and  a kindly  word. 
With  his  courteous  demeanor,  his  gentleness  and  his 
bravery,  it  was  little  wonder  that  Nabeshima  was  so 
devotedly  loved  by  his  retainers,  or  that  the  followers  of 
some  of  the  other  princes,  contrasting  the  haughty,  over- 
bearing dispositions  of  their  chieftains  with  the  friendly 
and  chivalrous  spirit  of  the  Prince  of  Kai,  were  inclined 
to  make  comparisons  that  angered  their  lords,  not  so 
much  against  them  as  against  the  object  of  their 
admiration. 

It  was  nearly  an  hour  later  when  Nabeshima  returned. 
As  he  drew  near  his  quarters,  he  perceived  Marmion 
Beaumont  coming  forward  to  meet  him, 

“ Good  morrow,”  cried  the  prince  gayly.  “Whither 
now,  pray?  To  Unzen,  I’ll  warrant  !” 

“In  spirit  I have  been  there  ever  since  we  parted  last 
night,”  the  Englishman  responded  gravely.  “ I presume 
it  is  foolishness  to  attach  any  importance  to  the  dreams 
that  visit  our  sleep,  yet  I cannot  shake  off  the  disagree- 
able impression  mine  have  left  upon  me.  Evil,  and  evil 
only,  have  I dreamed  of  our  friends  yonder,”  and  the 
young  man  pointed  toward  Unzen. 

“ I am  sorry  to  hear  that  you  are  disturbed,”  the  prince 
said  gently  ; “yet  I know  that  yesterday  afternoon  all 


382  Paoli ; the  Last  of  ihe  Missionaries. 


was  well.  The  hunchback,  in  company  with  one  of  the 
guards,  was  here.” 

“ I am  foolish,  I presume,  to  feel  uneasy.  But  no  more 
of  this,  I pray.  This  bracing  air  is  medicine  for  melan- 
choly, and  soon  we  shall  have  Una  and  her  father  aboard 
the  Spuyten  Duyvil  and  out  of  the  reach  of  danger.” 

“ Hast  thou  breakfasted  ? ” asked  Nabeshima,  suddenly. 

Beaumont  replied  that  he  had. 

“Then  there  is  no  reason  for  further  delay.  I shall 
summon  a hundred  or  more  of  my  men,  and  with  these 
you  may  at  once  set  out  for  my  cousin’s  hermitage  and 
conduct  the  entire  household  here.  After  dark,  they  can 
go  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil .” 


II. 

THE  COMING  OF  THE  CHRISTIANS. 

The  prince  was  turning  to  one  of  his  officers,  who  was 
just  passing,  to  give  the  order  to  have  the  men  make 
ready,  when  an  exclamation  of  surprise  from  the  English- 
man called  his  attention  to  him.  Beaumont  was  pointing 
toward  the  Christian  fortress,  where  a strong  body  of 
insurgents  could  be  seen  pouring  out  of  the  gates  of  their 
castle,  and  moving  slowly  over  the  fan-shaped  ridge  of 
land  connecting  their  stronghold  with  the  plain. 

Nabeshima  laughed.  “It  looks  threatening,  doesn’t  it? 
But  when  I tell  you  that  every  morning  for  a week  we 
have  beheld  just  such  a formidable  demonstration,  and 
that  after  the  feeblest  attempt  at  assault  imaginable,  they 
have  fled  back  to  their  defenses,  you  will  understand  the 
spirit  with  which  we  have  come  to  regard  these  sallies. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  383 


Look  about  you  and  see  the  preparations  that  are  being 
made  to  receive  the  enemy!” 

Beaumont  cast  his  eyes  over  the  plain  below.  The  cry 
that  the  Christians  were  again  coming  out  had  passed 
through  the  camp,  calling  forth  a loud  burst  of  laughter. 
The  men  engaged  in  cleaning  their  armor  either  sat  still 
or  springing  to  their  feet,  cast  a glance  toward  the 
approaching  foe  and  then  seated  themselves  again  at 
their  work. 

“The  invincibles  are  coming  ! ” roared  one  of  a hilar- 
ious company  of  soldiers  on  their  way  through  the  camp 
to  the  field  sports. 

“Out  for  exercise  !”  laughed  another. 

“ Nay,  friend,  thou  art  mistaken  !”  cried  a third  ; “ they 
are  out  to-day  to  beg  the  scrapings  of  our  kettles  for  their 
morning  meal;”  and,  with  a continued  volley  of  gibes  and 
jokes,  the  party  passed  on. 

Then  the  cry  arose  that  Terazawaand  his  retainers  had 
been  ordered  by  Matsudaira  to  charge  the  Christians,  and 
to  drive  them  back  to  the  fortress. 

“Ye  gods  !”  shouted  a warrior,  as  he  bent  over  his  hel- 
met polishing  its  crest,  “ if  there  be  any  fight  at  all  in 
those  Christian  dogs,  the  sight  of  Terazawa  will  call  it 
out,  for  they  hate  him  as  they  hate  the  name  of  Buddha." 

“ Ay,  ay  ! Thou  speakest  the  truth,  friend,”  exclaimed 
another.  “ By  my  life  ! I’m  going  to  get  this  armor  of 
mine  buckled  together.  Who  knows  what  may  happen?” 

Just  then,  Terazawa’s  division,  some  three  thousand 
strong,  dashed  by  on  their  way  down  the  hill. 

“Chase  them  through  their  gates  and  castle  and  over 
the  cliffs  into  the  sea  !”  some  one  cried  out  to  the  hurry- 
ing soldiers,  and  the  latter  shouted  back  a merry  re- 
sponse. 

To  the  Englishman,  who  had  seen  none  of  the  previous 


3S4  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


demonstrations,  matters  wore  a serious  aspect.  He  looked 
distrustfully  upon  the  approaching  Christians,  and  with 
the  deepest  astonishment  upon  the  careless  and  indiffer- 
ent army. 

“ ’Sdeath,  Prince,  they  are  going  to  attack  you  !” 

“Wait,”  said  the  other,  with  a laugh.  “ For  the  first 
few  days  we  all  thought  as  you  do  now  ; but — ” 

“ There’s  Paoli  ! I recognize  him,  even  at  this  distance; 
he  is  crouching  down  over  his  saddle-bow,  so  as  not  to 
appear  taller  than  the  others.  Some  sort  of  a Japanese 
garment  covers  his  armor  ; just  now  the  wind  blew 
it  aside.” 

Nabeshima’s  face  assumed  a grave  expression.  “ If  you 
are  right  and  the  person  that  you  see  be  really  the  Jes- 
uit, there  is,  most  assuredly,  mischief  afoot.  I am  posi- 
tive that  he  has  not  taken  part  in  any  of  their  previous 
sallies.” 

“ It  is  he,  I know  it  is  he  !”  cried  the  young  man,  ex- 
citedly. 

The  prince  gave  the  command  to  his  captains,  who  had 
gathered  about  him  : 

“Call  the  men  to  arms  ! Form  them  into  line  with  the 
utmost  speed  !”  and  the  words  had  scarcely  left  his  lips, 
when  the  officers  sprang  to  obey. 

The  Christians  were  now  on  the  open  plain,  between 
the  ridge  and  the  camp.  They  were  divided  as  they  had 
always  been  in  the  mock  sorties  heretofore  : Ashizuka, 

Chijiwa,  and  Oyano  leading  the  three  main  divisions, 
Komekine  bringing  up  the  rear  with  his  cannon.  Paoli 
and  Shiro  were  there,  each  at  the  head  of  a small  mounted 
body-guard.  Along  the  front  fluttered  a great  number 
of  white  banners,  some  with  the  figure  of  Christ,  others 
with  that  of  the  Virgin  and  still  others  with  merely  a red 
cross  painted  upon  them. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


385 


Terazawa's  troops  had  now  gained  the  plain  and  were 
rapidly  nearing  the  insurgents.  The  latter  were  seen  to 
waver  and  fall  back. 

“Ha,  ha!  Said  I not  aright?”  laughed  the  prince. 
“ Wait  but  a minute,  and  you  will  see  the  rebels  discharge 
an  ill-aimed  flight  of  arrows  ; another  minute  and  you  will 
behold  them  breaking  and  fleeing  to  the  shelter  of  their 
walls.  Ha,  ha,  ha  ! See  the  leaders  exhorting  them  to 
come  on.  But  no  ; they’ll  no  further.” 

Terazawa’s  men  were  now  seen  to  spring  forward,  with 
a loud  shout,  right  in  the  face  of  the  advancing  columns. 
Everyohe  expected  to  see  the  Christians  turn  and  flee  ; 
but,  instead  of  so  doing,  at  a shrill  peal  from  shell  and 
horn,  the  wavering  lines  became  firm  and  steady,  and, 
when  again  the  weird  signal  was  shrieked  out  upon  the 
morning  air,  the  startled  soldiers  beheld  the  Christians 
leap  forward  toward  their  enemies. 

“Ye  gods!”  shouted  Nabeshima,  “they  do  mean  attack! 
Thou  wast  right,  Master  Beaumont  ; we  have  again  fallen 
into  the  trap  of  our  cunning  foes.”  And  he  hurried  off 
to  arm  himself. 

Far  and  wide  through  the  surprised  and  unprepared 
camp  now  rang  the  warning  cry:  “ To  arms,  to  arms  !” 

But  loud  above  the  din  about  him,  Beaumont  could  hear 
the  thrilling  battle-shout  of  the  Christians : “ Yaso- 

Maria!  Woe  to  the  Infidel !”  Chijiwa  had  opposed 
himself  to  Terazawa,  while  the  remaining  divisions  of  the 
army  dashed  on  against  various  parts  of  the  camp,  in  ac- 
cordance with  a carefully  pre-arranged  plan.  The  strug- 
gle between  Chijiwa  and  his  foes  was  but  momentary  ; 
for  Terazawa  and  his  men  were  swept  back  like  chaff  be- 
fore the  hurricane,  and  the  entire  force  of  the  Christians 
were  in  the  government  camp  before  the  slightest  resist- 
ance had  been  made  to  their  advance.  It  was  but  the 


386  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


work  of  a minute  to  set  fire  to  the  booths  of  the  soldiers, 
and  the  inflammable  nature  of  the  material  of  which  these 
were  constructed,  aided  by  the  brisk  wind  blowing  from 
the  water,  that  rained  a shower  of  sparks  and  burning 
brands  upon  the  roofs  of  the  neighboring  buildings,  soon 
transformed  a wide  section  of  the  camp  into  a sea  of 
roaring  flame. 

By  a mighty  effort,  Kuroda,  one  of  the  government 
leaders,  had  formed  his  men  into  battle  array  before  the 
victorious  Oyano  burst  upon  him,  and  his  well-trained 
warriors  gave  the  Christians  their  first  check.  For  a few 
minutes  the  struggle  was  sharp  and  deadly,  but  Kuroda 
was  finally  killed  in  a hand-to-hand  encounter  with  the 
insurgent  chief,  and  his  retainers  turned  and  fled,  leaving 
their  camp  in  the  hands  of  the  Christians.  In  another 
part  of  the  field,  Chijiwa  had  dashed  into  the  midst  of 
the  troops  of  a young  chieftain  named  Arima,  had  scat- 
tered his  men  and  set  fire  to  their  booths,  and  was  now 
carrying  destruction  to  the  camp  of  Ogasawara.  The 
government  troops,  completely  taken  by  surprise,  were 
hurrying  to  arms  with  loud  shoutings,  while  their  move- 
ments were  impeded  by  disordered  and  defeated  detach- 
ments of  soldiers  fleeing  from  the  front.  These  fugitives, 
dashing  into  the  midst  of  the  forming  ranks,  were  con- 
tinually throwing  them  into  confusion  and  rendering  or- 
der impossible.  As  the  conflagration,  with  its  long,  wav- 
ing billows  of  flame  and  drifting  clouds  of  dense,  black 
smoke,  rolled  nearer  and  nearer  the  center  of  the  camp, 
the  government  troops  found  the  heat  unendurable  and 
were  compelled  to  abandon  their  encampment  and  to 
seek  shelter  from  the  stifling  smoke  in  the  broad,  deep 
valley  that  skirts  the  south-western  base  of  Mt.  Unzen, 
running  backward  in  the  direction  of  Obama. 


Paoli;  the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  387 


III. 

PRINCE  NABESHIMA’S  TURN  COMES. 

Clad  in  a full  suit  of  mail,  and  armed  with  sword  and 
spear,  Nabeshima  hastened  out  to  the  place  where  Mar- 
mion  Beaumont  was  awaiting  him. 

“ Master  Beaumont,”  said  the  prince,  regretfully  ; “ I 
would  that  thou  wert  looking  upon  this  from  the  deck 
of  the  Spuyten Duyvil.  The  battle  seems  to  be  rolling  this 
way,  and  in  a short  time  it  may  be  upon  us.” 

“ No  regrets  are  necessary,  Prince,”  the  Englishman 
replied,  promptly;  “ my  past  intimacy  with  both  Shiro  and 
Paoli  makes  me  loth  to  join  their  enemies  against  them  ; 
yet  I shall  stand  by  your  side  and,  if  necessary,  defend 
myself.  See,”  he  added,  drawing  his  blade  from  its  scab- 
bard, “ I have  exchanged  my  light  rapier  for  this  heavy 
sword.” 

A pleased  look  came  into  Nabeshima’s  face  as  he  lis- 
tened to  Beaumont’s  words.  “ Then  I shall  give  you  a 
body-guard,”  he  said,  and,  turning  to  some  of  his  war- 
riors that  were  armed  and  standing  by  he  cried  : 

“Ho,  there,  Ike,  Yamaji,  Sato,  Toyama,  Ito  ! My  friend 
is  to  remain  with  me  in  the  fore-front  of  the  battle  ; stand 
ye  by  his  side  ! Ye  gods,  Master  Beaumont,”  the  prince 
continued,  addressing  the  Englishman,  “ this  is  an  unlucky 
day  for  us  ! That  cunning  Jesuit  was  at  the  bottom  of 
that  stratagem,  I’ll  warrant.  See  yonder,  they  are  now 
in  the  camp  of  Ogasawara,  and  even  the  veterans  of 
Satsumaare  hurled  back  before  them.” 


388  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“What  do  you  propose  to  do  ?”  Beaumont  shouted,  for 
the  roar  of  the  conflagration  and  the  tumult  of  the  battle 
were  well  nigh  deafening. 

“ Remain  where  I am,  and  defend  my  camp  until  the 
last  man  falls  !”  came  back  the  answer.  “In  a short 
time  my  warriors  will  be  armed  and  ready,  and,  so  far  as  I 
can  see,  my  division  is  the  only  one  that  is  likely  to  get  into 
good  fighting  order  before  the  Christians  are  upon  them. 
You  perceive,”  he  added,  pointing  in  the  direction  of  the 
struggle  below,  “ that  the  leaders  in  the  central  and  rear 
portions  of  the  camp  have  to  contend  against  the  throngs 
of  panic-stricken  men  dashing  in  upon  them  from  the 
front,  and  also  against  the  stifling  smoke  that  the  wind 
bears  that  way.  Our  position  here  exempts  us  from 
both.” 

The  prince’s  officers  now  reported  the  men  to  be  under 
arms  and  awaiting  orders. 

“ Tear  down  those  booths!”  commanded  Nabeshima, 
indicating  a collection  of  thatched  buildings  just  below 
them  on  the  hill-side.  “ Clear  off  a space  there  that  the 
enemy  may  come  within  range  of  our  archers  and  mus- 
keteers before  they  break  into  our  camp  !” 

The  men  sprang  forward  to  obey,  and  in  a very  short 
time  a wide  tract  was  opened  up  along  the  hill-side 
between  Nabeshima’s  quarters  and  the  nearest  camp 
below.  While  this  was  being  done,  the  prince  and 
Beaumont  were  silently  watching  the  progress  of  the 
struggle  before  them.  The  whole  extent  of  the  camp 
upon  the  side  toward  the  Christians’  stronghold  had  felt 
the  shock  of  the  assault,  and  was  now  in  flames.  The 
heavy  clouds  of  smoke  rolling  over  the  plain,  had  by  this 
time  concealed  the  greater  part  of  the  battle  from  view  ; 
but  the  fury  of  the  conflict  could  be  very  well  under- 
stood from  the  terrific  outbursts  of  sound  that  broke 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  389 

through  the  thick  canopy  of  intervening  smoke  and 
flame.  Above  all  the  uproar  was  distinctly  heard  the 
unintermitted  war  cry  of  the  Christians  : “ Yaso-Maria  !” 
and  every  now  and  then  rose  the  thrilling  shout  : “ Paoli  ! 
Paoli  !”  For  three  long  hours,  the  tide  of  battle  surged 
and  eddied  back  and  forth  over  the  plain  around  the  foot 
of  the  hill  without  reaching  its  summit.  Noon  came,  and 
the  struggle  had  sensibly  slackened  ; one  o’clock,  and  the 
din  of  war  had  almost  entirely  died  away.  Within  the 
next  hour,  the  Christians  were  seen  falling  back  out  of 
the  burning  camp  and  assembling  on  the  open  plain 
before  their  castle. 

Nabeshima’s  retainers  had  thus  far  been  compelled  to 
be  mere  spectators  of  the- conflict,  and  now  the  sight  of 
their  triumphant  enemies  maddened  them  beyond  en- 
durance, and  they  besought  their  lord  to  lead  them 
against  the  Christians.  The  prince  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  among  them. 

“ Be  patient,  heroes  ! ” he  cried.  “ The  time  for  a 
charge  has  not  yet  come.  We  must  maintain  the  advan- 
tage our  position  gives  us.  You  are  anxious  for  battle; 
take  my  word  for  it,  you  shall  have  plenty  of  fighting  be- 
fore long.  Even  now  the  enemy  is  preparing  to  storm 
our  position.  Remember,  brave  hearts  of  Kai,  the  issue 
of  to-day’s  conflict  depends  upon  us.  The  broken  and 
disordered  forces  of  the  other  princes  lie  in  our  rear  ; an 
easy  prey  would  they  be  to  yonder  foe,  were  we  dislodged 
from  this  hill.  No,  gallant  comrades;  here  must  we  re- 
main— a rock,  stemming  the  tide  of  defeat  and  holding 
the  enemy  in  check  until  our  friends  can  recover  them- 
selves and  rally  to  our  support.” 

A shout  of  approval  greeted  Nabeshima’s  words,  and 
the  officers  at  once  proceeded  to  draw  up  the  troops  along 
the  crest  of  the  hill  in  a favorable  position  for  receiving 


390  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


the  attack  of  the  enemy,  which  every  one  felt  certain  was 
about  to  fall  upon  them. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait.  Two  divisions  of  the 
Christian  army  were  soon  seen  moving  across  the  plain 
toward  the  foot  of  the  hill.  As  the  insurgents  drew 
nearer,  Nabeshima  recognized  the  leader  to  be  Ashizuka 
and  Oyano.  Pointing  out  the  latter  to  Beaumont,  the 
prince  said  : 

“ Yonder  warrior  was  once  one  of  my  most  trusted  and 
faithful  retainers.  Lo,  now,  lord  and  vassal  meet  as  foes 
upon  the  field  of  battle  ! Men  of  Kai  ! ” he  shouted  to 
his  soldiers,  “ know  ye  not  yonder  chieftain  ? It  is  Oyano; 
fire  not  upon  him.  If  he  must  fall  let  the  hand  that 
slays  him  be  other  than  ours.” 

The  heavy  volley  that  Nabeshima’s  retainers  now 
poured  into  the  advancing  columns  caused  them  to  waver, 
and,  after  an  ineffectual  effort  to  rally,  the  Christians  fell 
back  beyond  range  of  the  enemy’s  fire,  leaving  many  of 
their  number  dead  or  wounded  on  the  hill-side.  Hastily 
re-forming  their  ranks,  Ashizuka  and  Oyano  again  led 
their  forces  against  the  foe,  and  once,  more  were  they 
compelled  to  retreat.  Finding  it  thus  impossible  to  carry 
Nabeshima’s  position  from  the  plain, the  Christian  leaders, 
after  a short  consultation,  decided  to  make  a simultaneous 
assault  from  four  different  points.  The  fire  in  that  part 
of  the  government  camp  adjacent  to  Nabeshima  had  now 
died  down,  leaving  heaps  of  hot  and  smoldering  ashes. 
With  care,  this  section  of  the  field  might  be  safely  tra- 
versed, and  it  was  arranged  that  Oyano’s  division  should 
advance  upon  the  prince  from  that  quarter;  Ashizuka  was 
again  to  charge  up  the  hill-side,  while  Chijiwa  was  ordered 
to  lead  his  men  through  a small  morass  and  over  some 
hills  to  the  southward  and  to  fall  upon  the  rear  of  the 
enemy.  Komekine  had  a quantity  of  fire-arrows  brought 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the.  Missionaries.  391 

from  the  castle,  and  with  these  he  hoped  to  set  the  hostile 
camp  on  fire. 

On  the  hill  above  them,  Beaumont  and  the  Prince  of 
Kai  were  closely  watching  their  movements,  and  when 
the  different  divisions  were  seen  moving  off,  each  to  its 
appointed  place,  Nabeshima  turned  to  his  companion 
with  a quiet  smile  : 

“ I thought  the  wily  Ashizuka  would  not  repeat  the  ex- 
periment of  attacking  us  again  from  this  side  without 
first  dividing  our  force  by  opposing  to  us  supporting 
lines  of  attack.” 

The  Englishman  scarcely  heard  his  companion’s  words. 
He  was  thinking  of  the  desperate  valor  which  the 
Christians  had  displayed  on  previous  occasions,  and  he 
could  not  refrain  from  believing  that  he  was  about  to 
witness  the  most  sanguinary  encounter  that  had  yet 
taken  place  in  the  whole  course  of  this  bloody  war. 

“ You  are  prepared,  Prince,  for  a most  resolute  assault 
upon  the  part  of  your  foes  ? ” and  he  looked  questioningly 
into  Nabeshima’s  face. 

The  young  nobleman  did  not  atonce  reply.  The  smile, 
that  a moment  before  had  lighted  up  his  countenance, 
vanished,  and,  as  his  eyes  swept  over  the  Christian  forces 
below  and  then  over  the  silent  masses  of  his  own  troops 
behind  him,  a hard,  stern  look  settled  upon  his  features, 
and  his  voice  was  unwontedly  grave  as  he  spoke  : 

“Master  Beaumont,  I think  you  comprehend  the  situ- 
ation, yet  I shall  speak.  I believe  that  you  are  now  to 
see  fought  the  decisive  battle  of  this  most  unhappy  war. 
Within  the  next  few  hours  will  be  decided  the  fate  of  the 
Christian  church  in  Japan.  If  I am  overcome  and  driven 
from  this  position,  the  way  lies  open  to  the  broken  and 
disordered  body  of  the  main  army,  and  in  its  demoral- 
ized and  panic-stricken  multitudes  the  Christians  will 


392  Paoh  / the  Past  of  the  Missionaries. 


find  an  easy  harvest  of  slaughter.  With  the  destruction 
of  our  present  army,  all  southern  Japan  will  virtually  be 
in  the  power  of  the  insurgents,  and  tens  of  thousands  of 
our  people,  who  are  Christians  at  heart,  encouraged  by 
the  success  of  their  cause,  will  openly  avow  their  faith 
and  join  their  brethren  in  arms  ; and  then — who  knows 
what  the  end  may  be?” 

The  young  Englishman’s  heart  beat  fast.  Despite  his 
friendship  for  the  Prince  of  Kai,  his  sympathies  were  still 
with  the  struggling  Christians.  He  remembered  his  past 
intimacy  with  Paoli  and  Shiro  and  the  conversations  he 
had  had  with  them  aboard  the  Spuyten  Duyvil.  For  the 
moment  the  sublime  faith  they  had  professed  in  the  final 
triumph  of  their  cause  seemed  to  impart  to  his  spirit  a 
confidence  equal  to  their  own. 

With  unexpected  rapidity,  Chijiwa  and  Komekine 
crossed  the  morass  and  scaled  the  opposite  heights. 
Here  the  latter  chieftain  paused,  and,  placing  his  cannon 
in  position,  opened  fire  upon  Nabeshima’s  camp,  while 
a small  division  of  his  men  descended  the  hill,  and 
began  discharging  their  burning  arrows  toward  the 
booths  of  the  soldiers.  The  roar  of  Komekine's  guns 
was  the  signal  for  Ashizuka  and  Oyano  to  move  forward 
to  the  attack.  Chijiwa’s  troops  were  already  engaged 
in  a fierce  hand  to  hand  struggle  with  the  enemy  on  the 
lower  ground,  and  soon  the  Prince  of  Kai  beheld  his 
position  furiously  assailed  from  the  rear,  on  either  flank, 
and  in  front. 

The  Christians,  no  less  than  Nabeshima,  recognized 
that  the  supreme  crisis  in  their  fortunes  had  come,  and 
that  upon  the  issue  of  the  present  conflict  hung  their 
weal  or  woe.  This  knowledge  lent  strength  to  their  arms 
and  courage  to  their  hearts.  With  a reckless  daring 
they  dashed  forward  upon  the  guns  of  the  enemy,  heed 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  393 


less  of  the  terrible  volleys  that  tore  wide  gaps  in  their 
ranks,  and  with  a fierce  shout  they  hurled  themselves 
against  the  foe,  crushing  them  back  by  the  momentum 
of  their  onset. 

The  struggle  that  ensued  baffles  any  attempt  at  de- 
scription. Bravest  of  all  the  princes  before  Hara  Castle 
was  Nabeshima  of  Kai,  and  no  warriors  in  the  army  of 
Matsudaira  were  more  courageous  than  the  twelve  thous- 
and that  followed  his  standard  ; but  bootless  seemed 
the  prowess  and  heroism  of  both  lord  and  vassal  before 
the  whirlwind  of  war  that  now  burst  upon  them.  With 
fully  a third  of  his  gallant  little  army  either  disabled  or 
lifeless  on  the  field,  and  his  camp  in  flames,  Nabeshima, 
his  own  face  streaming  with  blood,  at  length  was  com- 
pelled to  order  a retreat,  with  the  hope  that  by  throwing 
his  burning  camp  between  himself  and  the  enemy  his 
troops  would  have  an  opportunity  to  close  up  their 
shattered  ranks  and  to  gain  a new  and  favorable  posi- 
tion. The  movement  was  executed  with  marvellous 
order  and  quickness,  and,  before  the  Christians  were 
aware  of  their  foes’  intention,  they  found  themselves  left 
in  possession  of  the  burning  camp. 

The  leaders  of  the  insurgents  at  once  ordered  a pursuit. 
Instead,  however,  of  breaking  through  the  flames  and 
following  upon  the  track  of  the  retreating  enemy,  they 
made  a circuit  to  the  northward,  passing  through  a small 
portion  of  the  ruined  camp  of  the  main  army.  This 
course,  although  requiring  considerable  time,  would 
preserve  their  ranks  from  the  annoyance  and  disorder 
to  which  a dash  through  the  midst  of  the  burning  booths 
would  have  exposed  them.  As  the  Christians,  in  solid 
columns,  swept  forward  to  charge  anew  their  already 
defeated  foes,  and  to  complete  the  utter  rout  and  over- 
throw of  the  infidel  host,  a shout  of  triumphant  ex- 


394  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


ultation  broke  from  their  lips  as  they  beheld,  in  the 
valley  below  them,  the  men  of  Kai  huddled  together 
in  seemingly  inextricable  confusion,  and  Nabeshima  and 
his  officers  dashing  hither  and  thither  among  them, 
vainly  endeavoring  to  restore  order  and  discipline. 


IV. 

DEVOTION,  DESTINY,  DELIVERANCE. 

We  often  meet  with  this  declaration  concerning 
some  historical  character — “ He  was  a child  of  his 
times  and  this  simply  means  that  such  a one 
was  an  embodiment  of  the  spirit  of  the  age  in 
which  he  lived,  that  in  him  we  have  an  epitome  of  that 
age’s  manners  and  customs,  its  thoughts  and  feelings, — 
in  a word,  the  thousand  and  one  elements  that  go  to  form 
the  complex  organism  which  we  call  society.  The  spirit 
of  the  age  in  which  he  lived  became  flesh  and  blood  in 
the  person  of  Francesco  Paoli  ; and  not  to  remember 
this  is  to  fail  to  comprehend  the  man. 

It  is  almost  impossible  for  us  of  this  materialistic  nine- 
teenth century  to  divest  ourselves  of  its  influences  and 
to  contemplate  with  unbiased  minds  an  age  so  complete- 
ly spiritual,  so  grossly  superstitious,  so  full  of  religious 
rancor,  controversy,  bigotry,  and  intolerance  as  was  the 
one  into  which  Paoli  was  born.  God  and  the  devil, 
Heaven  and  Hell,  angels  and  demons  were  visible  reali- 
ties. Like  Elisha’s  servant,  men  saw  themselves  encom- 
passed by  spiritual  legions,  and  they  held  communion 
with  these  unearthly  beings.  Fastings,  scourgings,  and 
prayers  brought  heavenly  comforters  to  the  side  of  the 
religious  fanatic  ; wicked  men  made  league  with  Satan 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries . 395 


and  signed  the  compact  with  their  blood.  The  world 
was  regarded  as  a battlefield,  where  God  and  his  angels 
fought  the  hosts  of  darkness  ; the  church  was  God’s 
weapon,  nay,  rather  an  ally  ; through  her  co-operation 
alone  could  the  world  be  won  to  the  cross  and  the  empire  of 
Satan  overthrown.  Hence  that  marvellous  missionary 
activity  that  inspired  the  Church  of  Rome  during  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  and  which  planted 
her  standard  in  lands  the  most  remote  and  amid  nations 
the  most  ferocious  and  hostile. 

In  this  desperate  warfare,  which  she  was  waging  at 
home  and  abroad,  the  church’s  great  army  was  the  hosts 
of  her  believing  children,  and  over  these  she  established 
all  the  rigors  of  a military  discipline.  The  general  who 
orders  the  execution  of  a traitor,  or  a deserter,  or  a sol- 
dier that  refuses  obedience,  does  so  for  the  greater  safety 
of  the  army  as  a whole,  and  for  the  better  accomplish- 
ment of  its  appointed  work.  Similar  in  spirit  and  prac- 
tice was  the  policy  of  the  church.  In  the  great  army 
of  the  cross,  insubordination  to  authority  or  open  re- 
volt must  be  crushed  down,  the  malefactor  must  suffer 
the  punishment  of  traitor  and  deserter,  if  the  power 
that  united  all  and  governed  all  and  aspired  to  universal 
empire  was  to  retain  its  supremacy  and  to  extend  its 
sway.  Thus,  heresy  was  treason,  an  acceptance  of  what 
became  known  as  Protestantism  was  open  rebellion,  call- 
ing for  the  severest  chastisement  ; and,  to  the  extent  of 
her  ability,  both  at  home  and  in  her  mission  fields,  the 
church  made  haste  to  wash  out  with  the  blood  of  her 
dissenting  children  all  traces  of  their  denial  of  her  au- 
thority. 

Such  a conception  as  this  of  the  church’s  prerogatives 
had,  since  his  early  manhood,  dominated  the  life  of 
Francesco  Paoli  ; and  when  to  a character  like  his,  en- 


396  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


dowed  by  nature  with  every  guarantee  of  success  in  any 
profession  to  which  it  might  have  pleased  him  to  have 
devoted  his  splendid  talents,  were  added  the  conscien- 
tious belief  that  he  was  elected  of  Heaven  to  establish 
the  power  of  the  church  in  Japan;  when  the  zeal,  the  de- 
votion, the  fanaticism  that  burned  in  the  heart  of  the 
Catholicism  of  his  age,  seized  upon  and  thrilled  every 
fibre  of  his  passionate  nature,  we  need  no  longer  won- 
der at  the  hatred  and  terror  he  inspired  among  the  hea- 
then, at  the  resolute  and  unflinching  fidelity  he  kin- 
dled in  the  bosom  of  the  struggling  church,  at  the  in- 
trigues by  which  he  sought  to  bring  foreign  interven- 
tion to  their  assistance,  at  the  deception  that  he,  for 
their  ultimate  good,  had  practised  even  upon  the  Chris- 
tians, or  at  his  quenchless  purpose  now  to  blot  out,  by 
the  destruction  of  Lord  Mori , of  Unzen,  the  sole  men- 
ace to  the  internal  peace  and  purity  of  the  Church  of 
Japan.  In  all  this,  Paoli  the  Jesuit  was  a faithful  ser- 
vant of  Rome  and  the  slave  of  his  age. 

Bu  t greater  than  the  power  of  any  man,  however  mighty ; 
of  any  organization,  however  wide-spread  its  sway  ; of 
the  spirit  of  any  age,  however  absolute  may  be  its  influ- 
ence over  human  conduct,  is  that  mysteriously  inscrutable 
force,  to  which  man  has  given  many  names  and  of  which 
he  knows  so  very  little,  that  emanates  from  the  invisible 
throne  whereon  sits  the  Sovereign  of  the  universe.  It 
perplexes  the  historian  to  account  for  the  fatal  error  of 
the  hitherto  sagacious  general  that  gives  the  battle  to  his 
foe,  and  causes  the  downfall  of  a nation.  The  wise  and 
long-tried  statesman  by  one  incomprehensible  blunder 
ruins  a government,  the  stability  or  overthrow  of  which 
rested  upon  him.  Why  is  this  ? We  reply  that  He  who  be- 
holds every  change,  without  Himself  changing,  who  gives 
power  and  who  takes  it  away,  who  transfers  it  from  one 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  397 


man  to  another,  from  one  dynasty  to  another,  from  one 
nation  and  race  to  another  nation  and  race,  has  seen  the 
end  from  the  beginning  and  knows  how  the  loss  of  a bat- 
tle or  the  fall  of  a government  is  to  forward  His  eternal 
design  in  the  history  of  the  race  He  has  created  and  the 
reins  of  whose  progress  He  holds  in  his  own  hands.  Thus, 
the  general’s  error  and  the  statesman’s  blunder  are  not 
the  results  of  mere  chance;  they  are  but  parts  of  a great 
plan  which  includes  all  causes  and  all  effects  in  one  and 
the  same  order. 

Why  was  it  that,  of  all  times,  Nirado  Shiro  should  have 
chosen  the  evening  he  did  to  give  to  the  Jesuit  the  letter 
he  had  found  in  the  hermitage  of  Urizen?  Why  was  it 
that  Francesco  Paoli,  on  the  morning  of  this  never-to-be- 
forgotten  tenth  of  March,  as  he  went  into  battle,  should 
lift  his  eyes  above  the  camp  of  the  infidel,  with  its  hun- 
dred thousand  merciless  foes  of  his  cause,  and  should  fix 
them  upon  the  mountain  where  dwelt  one  helpless  old 
man,  with  the  resolution  to  quit  the  battle-field,  as  soon 
as  the  onslaught  upon  the  heathen  promised  victory  to 
the  Christians,  and,  leaving  the  overthrow  of  the  many 
to  others,  himself  to  seek  the  destruction  of  the  one  ? 
And  the  answer  must  be  : It  was  destiny,  it  was  the 
will  of  Heaven. 

For  the  space  of  a quarter  of  a century,  Paoli  had  been 
a zealous  and  faithful  missionary  of  the  doctrines  he  con- 
scientiously believed  to  be  true  ; he  had  been  a loving 
counsellor  and  courageous  defender  of  his  devoted  con- 
verts who,  in  their  distress,  clung  to  him  as  children  to  a 
father  ; and,  in  these  dark,  later  days,  he  had  been  a brave 
and  invincible  warrior-bishop  of  a militant  church.  For 
many  yrears  he  had  wandered  about  the  country  with  a 
price  set  upon  his  head,  defying  the  plots  and  intrigues 
of  his  foes  to  seize  him,  walking  unharmed  among  all  the 


398  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


traps  and  pitfalls  they  prepared  for  him,  and  outwitting 
them  in  all  the  stratagems  which  their  united  wisdom 
could  devise.  And  yet  it  was  this  same  Paoli,  hitherto 
so  wise,  so  circumspect,  so  cautious,  who  now,  at  the  bid- 
ding of  the  lowest  impulse  of  his  nature,  had  resolved 
upon  a course  of  action,  which  would  deprive  his  cause 
of  the  inspiration  of  his  leadership  in  this,  its  most  deci- 
sive struggle,  and  expose  it  to  the  utmost  hazard. 

Into  the  battle  rode  Bishop  Paoli,  and  by  his  side  went 
Nirado  Shiro.  Of  all  the  thrilling  events  of  that  terrible 
day  the  young  leader,  still  under  the  influence  of  his 
companion’s  will,  was  but  vaguely  conscious.  He  knew 
that  he  was  always  in  the  fore-front  of  the  struggle  by  the 
side  of  Paoli,  and  that,  next  to  the  dreadful  ax  of  the 
Jesuit,  no  other  Christian  weapon  spread  such  terror  and 
havoc  among  the  foe  as  did  his  own  sword.  In  the  thick- 
est of  one  of  the  most  desperate  encounters  of  the  day, 
he  felt  the  gold  cross,  which  Ine  Tanaka  had  given  him, 
torn  away  from  his  breast  by  the  thrust  of  a hostile  spear. 
One  of  his  body-guard,  a young  man,  about  his  own  age, 
dismounted  and  picked  it  up  ; but  a savage  blow  from  an 
enemy’s  sword  stretched  him  lifeless  at  the  feet  of  his 
master’s  horse.  In  the  fury  of  the  struggle,  Shiro  had  no 
time  to  recover  the  crucifix  from  the  grasp  of  the  fallen 
youth,  and  when  the  government  troops  had  been  dis- 
lodged from  their  position,  and  he  would  have  gone  back 
for  it,  the  portion  of  the  encampment  in  which  it  lay  was 
wrapped  in  flames.  As  he  stood  there  listening  to  the 
sounds  of  strife  in  other  quarters  of  the  camp,  the  Jesuit 
rode  up. 

“ The  victory  is  ours,  my  son.  The  infidel  are  fleeing 
on  every  side.  We  may  safely  leave  the  field  in  charge 
of  Ashizuka  and  the  other  chieftains.  My  son,  the  heathen 
have  felt  our  vengeance,  and  now  the  other!”  and  the 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  399 


face  of  the  bishop  grew  stern  and  hard,  and  his  blazing 
eyes  burned  with  a more  terrible  fire  than  Shiro  had  ever 
before  seen. 

Mechanically,  the  young  leader  ordered  his  body-guard 
to  follow,  and  himself  rode  on  with  the  Jesuit.  He  was 
fully  conscious  that  he  was  not  his  own  master,  but  he 
felt  powerless  to  shake  off  the  weird,  subtle  influence 
this  man  was  exerting  over  him.  Not  until  they  had 
threaded  their  devious  way  through  the  defiles  up  the 
side  of  Unzen  and  saw  below  them  Lord  Mori’s  hermi- 
tage, and  before  it  the  figures  of  the  guards,  and  Una 
and  her  father  in  the  background,  did  Nirado  Shiro  fully 
realize  where  he  and  his  companion  were,  or  on  what 
mission  they  had  come.  The  sight  of  the  woman  he 
loved  broke  the  evil  spell  that  so  long  had  bound  him. 
Once  again  was  he  master  of  himself,  and  all  the  scorn 
and  defiance,  that  on  the  previous  evening  he  had  felt  for 
the  man  by  his  side,  again  filled  his  heart.  Turning  to 
the  Jesuit,  he  pointed  out  to  him  the  figure  of  Una  Mori; 
and  his  words  were  few  and  stern  : 

“ Francesco  Paoli,  beware  !” 


V. 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  END, 

The  victorious  Christians,  as  they  looked  aown  upon 
the  demoralized  troops  of  the  Prince  of  Kai,  had,  as  they 
might  well  believe,  every  reason  to  rejoice.  The  long 
expected  hour  of  triumph  and  deliverance  was  at  hand. 
One  more  impetuous  charge  upon  the  broken  and  dis- 
heartened troops  before  them  and  their  way  to  the  main 
army  would  be  clear,  and  they  knew  that  Matsudaira  and 


400  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


his  princes  had  not  yet  succeeded  in  getting  their  demor- 
alized horde  of  panic-stricken  fugitives  into  order,  and 
that  they  would  lind  them  still  unprepared  for  battle. 
Upon  these,  then,  they  would  burst  with  all  the  relent- 
less fury  that  became  avengers  of  slaughtered  brethren. 
For  long  years  the  heathen  had  been  drunken  with  the 
blood  of  the  saints,  but  the  day  of  judgment  and  ven- 
geance had  come  ; the  vials  of  God’s  wrath  were  being 
poured  out  upon  the  heads  of  the  merciless  idolaters,  and 
before  the  swords  of  the  Christians  were  sheathed,  the 
valleys  and  the  mountain-sides  of  Unzen  would  be  thickly 
strewn  with  the  dead  of  the  infidel.  Thoughts  and  feel- 
ings such  as  these  filled  each  heart  in  the  Christian  army, 
as  the  men  looked  down  upon  their  foes.  They  and  their 
brethren  had  received  no  mercy  at  the  hands  of  the 
heathen,  and  the  heathen  should  receive  no  mercy  from 
them.  It  was  a question  either  of  destroying  their  enemies 
and  persecutors,  or  of  being  themselves  destroyed,  and 
now  that  the  power  of  choice  was  theirs,  they  chose  to 
slay  rather  than  to  be  slain. 

Reining  in  his  horse  on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  Ashizuka 
called  a halt,  and  then,  riding  before  the  motionless  col- 
umns and  pointing  out  to  the  soldiers  the  disordered 
mass  of  the  enemy,  he  shouted  : 

“Behold,  Swords  of  the  Church,  the  marvellous  thing 
our  God  has  wrought  ! Confusion  and  the  spirit  of 
despair  has  He  breathed  into  the  hearts  of  His  foes.  Like 
frightened  hares  they  crouch  at  our  approach  and  make 
ready  their  necks  for  the  edge  of  the  sword.  Upon  them, 
O comrades  and  warriors  of  the  Lord!  Yaso-Maria! 
Accursed  be  he  who  would  spare  an  infidel  ! ’’ 

But  alas  ! it  was  to  be  the  destiny  of  the  Christian 
warriors  of  Japan  that  never  again  should  they  carry 
terror  and  destruction  to  the  ranks  of  a foe.  Unknown 


HO!  MEN  OP  KAI I WE  ABE  SAVED  I” — See  I'aqe  407. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  403 


to  them  at  that  moment,  the  star  of  their  fortunes  had 
reached  its  meridian  ; henceforth  it  was  doomed  to  sink 
swiftly  and  surely  into  the  silence  and  the  utter  black- 
ness of  night.  At  the  flood-tide  of  their  success,  at  the 
time  of  their  highest  exultation,  when  their  hearts  beat 
high  with  hope  and  the  possibility  of  disaster  was  farthest 
from  their  thoughts,  when  the  triumph  of  their  cause 
seemed  to  be  most  assured,  and  when,  in  their  imagina- 
tions, they  already  beheld  a Christian  Japan  rising  out 
of  the  wreck  of  war — in  this  supreme  hour  of  their  for- 
tunes, as  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  as  falls  the  thun- 
derbolt out  of  a clear  sky,  came  the  change. 

When  Ashizuka  gave  the  command  to  halt,  Chijiwa’s 
division  was  passing  through  that  portion  of  the  burnt 
camp  where,  in  the  early  hours  of  the  day,  had  occurred 
the  desperate  encounter  between  the  Christians  and  infidel 
forces,  in  the  course  of  which  Shiro,  as  already  related, 
had  lost  the  gold  cross  which  Ine  Tanaka  had  given  him. 
The  fighting  had  been  exceptionally  severe ; and  the 
ground  was  thickly  covered  with  dead  bodies,  which  the 
fire  had  charred  beyond  all  possibility  of  distinguishing 
friend  and  foe.  A portion  of  Chijiwa’s  troop  were  stand- 
ing here  among  the  slain,  their  heads  bent  forward  in 
close  attention  to  Ashizuka’s  words.  There  was  one  in 
the  ranks,  however,  an  obscure  soldier,  whose  name  even 
has  not  been  preserved,  that  was  paying  no  heed  to  the 
leader’s  address.  Kneeling  by  a corpse  that  lay  face 
downward  near  his  feet,  the  soldier  turned  over  the 
burnt  and  blackened  body.  The  fallen  warrior’s  forehead 
had  been  cloven  to  the  brain  by  evidently  a sword-stroke, 
his  own  weapon  was  missing,  and  his  armor  burned 
away;  but  his  left  hand  was  folded  to  his  breast,  and  in 
its  rigid  grasp,  the  terrified  soldier  beheld  the  cross  of 
gold,  which  he  at  once  recognized  as  the  one  his  young 


404  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  'Missionaries. 


commander-in-chief  had  worn  when  he  went  into  the 
battle. 

Just  as  Ashizuka’s  closing  words — “ Accursed  De  he 
who  would  spare  an  infidel  ! ” rang  out  like  a trumpet 
blast  over  the  listening  army,  the  rear  of  Chijiwa’s 
division  was  startled  by  a shriek,  and  the  piercing  cry: 

“ General  Shiro  is  dead  ! Here  is  his  body,  and  here 
his  cross  ! ” 

An  exclamation  of  horrified  surprise  burst  from  the 
lips  of  the  score  or  more  of  soldiers  who  heard  the  words, 
and  they  hastily  gathered  about  the  speaker  and  the 
ghastly  object  at  his  feet.  Yes,  there  was,  indeed,  Shiro’s 
cross  ! Some  of  them  had  seen  it  upon  his  breast  dur- 
ing the  struggle  on  the  very  spot  where  they  were  now 
standing.  And  here  was  the  body;  its  features  burned 
beyond  their  power  to  recognize  them  ; but  the  size  and 
form  were  Shiro's.  The  voices  of  the  beholders  rose  in 
a wailing  chorus  : 

“ General  Shiro  is  slain  ! Our  leader  is  dead  ! Where 
in  Bishop  Paoli  ? ” 

The  scene  that  followed,  as  the  cry  was  passed  on  from 
lip  to  lip,  was  one  of  indescribable  panic  and  consterna- 
tion. Before  the  news  of  the  terrible  discovery  had 
passed  through  all  of  Chijiwa’s  command,  it  had  assumed 
a still  more  paralyzing  form. 

“ Our  general  and  Bishop  Paoli  are  among  the  dead  ! 
Shiro’s  body  has  just  been  found  ! ” was  what  the  other 
divisions  heard,  and  almost  instantly  the  whole  army  was 
transformed  from  orderly  and  well-marshaled  battalions 
to  a demoralized  rout. 

At  the  best  but  half-trained  yeomen,  the  Christian 
warriors  did  not  possess  that  disciplined  firmness  that 
enables  the  genuine  soldier,  in  moments  of  deep  excite- 


Pao/i ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  405 


ment,  to  resist  the  impulse  to  break  away  from  his  place 
in  the  ranks. 

In  vain,  Ashizuka  and  the  other  leaders,  strove  to 
calm  the  excited  men  ; in  vain  did  they  endeavor  to  rally 
them  to  a renewed  attack  upon  their  already  van 
quished  foe.  “ Useless  now  is  further  fighting,”  was 
the  cry  that  rose  from  the  grief-stricken  thousands,  “our 
leader,  whom  we  thought  Heaven  had  sent  us  as  a deliv- 
erer, is  dead,  and  we  are  doomed.  We  shall  search 
for  the  bishop’s  body  and  then  return  to  the  castle  to 
die  with  our  wives  and  little  ones.” 

VI 

SAVED  ! 

In  the  valley  below  Nabeshima  and  his  officers  had 
beheld  the  approach  of  the  Christians  with  the  grim 
indifference  born  of  despair.  All  their  efforts  to  restore 
order  among  their  men  had  proved  futile  and  they  knew 
that  in  their  present  potition  they  could  not  hope  to 
withstand  the  storm  of  battle  about  to  break  upon  them. 
Some  three  hundred  of  the  soldiers  had  responded  to 
their  leader’s  call,  and  Nabeshima,  hastily  forming  these 
into  a hollow  square,  prepared  to  resist  the  foe  as  long 
as  a man  remained.  His  officers,  meanwhile,  were  con- 
tinuing their  efforts  to  rally  the  main  body  of  the  troops, 
but  with  little  prospect  of  success. 

The  Prince  of  Kai  cast  a glance  at  the  enemy  upon 
the  heights  above  him,  and  then,  turning  suddenly  to 
Beaumont,  who  was  standing  close  by,  he  said  in  a low, 
rapid  voice  : 

“ Master  Beaumont,  this  morning,  when  the  Christians’ 
assault  fell  upon  our  camp,  you  said  it  was  your  purpose 


406  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


to  stand  by  my  side  and  to  defend  yourself.  You  have 
more  than  kept  your  word.  Twice,  at  least,  this  day 
have  you  saved  my  life,  and  yet,  I believe  that  no  Chris- 
tian has  fallen  by  your  hand.” 

The  Englishman  would  have  spoken,  but  Nabeshima 
continued  : 

“I  understand  your  feelings.  You  are  a Christian,  and, 
rightly  enough,  your  sympathies  are  with  our  foes  ; yet 
you  have  honored  me  with  your  friendship  and  con- 
fidence, and,  believe  me,  Master  Beaumont,  brother  never 
loved  brother  more  than  Nabeshima  loves  his  foreigner- 
friend.” 

The  Prince’s  voice  choked  and  he  could  say  no  more. 
The  Englishman,  too,  was  deeply  affected,  and  his  eyes 
grew  misty  with  the  tears  he  could  not  restrain.  Mas- 
tering his  emotions  with  a strong  effort,  Nabeshima 
continued  sadly  but  firmly  • 

“And  now,  my  friend,  we  must  part.  It  is  a duty  you 
owe  yourself,  your  kinsfolk  in  far-off  England,  and  above 
all,  the  woman  who  loves  you,”  and  the  prince  pointed 
in  the  direction  of  Unzen,  “that  you  should  save  your- 
self. My  duty  is  no  less  clear.  The  day  has  gone  against 
us.  In  a short  time,  the  Christians  will  again  attack  us, 
and  before  the  mad  fury  of  their  assault,  we  can  only 
hope  to  die  the  death  of  the  warrior,  selling  our  lives 
dearly,  and,  at  last,  falling  where  we  fight.  But  you 
must  go.  I see  Oyano  yonder  among  the  Christians, 
leading  on  his  men.  I shall  sue  for  a few  minutes’  truce 
and  place  you  in  his  keeping.  He  was  at  one  time  my 
faithful  vassal,  and  duty  rather  than  choice,  methinks, 
causes  him  now  to  draw  sword  upon  me  who  was  once 
his  prince.  He  is,  moreover,  the  devoted  friend  of  my 
cousin.  Lord  Mori,  of  Unzen,  and  he  will  find  means  to 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  407 

effect  their  escape  to  the  foreign  ship.  You  may  trust 
him,  for  he  is  as  noble  as  he  is  brave.” 

What  Beaumont’s  reply  might  have  been,  his  friend 
never  knew,  for  at  that  instant  the  attention  of  all  was 
called  to  the  Christians,  who  had  halted  on  the  crest  of 
the  heights.  Nabeshima  and  the  Englishman  recognized 
the  figure  of  Ashizuka,  as  he  rode  along  the  ranks  har- 
anguing the  men,  but  though  they  heard  his  voice,  they 
were  unable  to  comprehend  his  words.  Soon,  however, 
they  were  startled  by  the  loud  cries  that  followed 
the  discovery  of  the  crucifix  ; then  the  Christians  were 
seen  to  break  ranks  and  to  hurry  off  in  a confused 
mass  toward  a common  point,  while  the  uproar  continued 
to  swell  in  volume.  The  astonished  spectators  beheld 
Ashizuka,  Oyano  and  the  other  leaders  dash  after  the 
men,  wildly  gesticulating  as  if  endeavoring  to  call  them 
back  to  their  places.  Beaumont  and  Nabeshima  gazed 
at  each  other  in  speechless  surprise.  Then  as  they  list- 
ened to  the  wild  outcries  that  rose  louder  every  min- 
ute, the  prince’s  eyes  flashed  with  a joyful  light  as  he 
whispered  breathlessly  : 

“A  panic  ! We  are  saved  !” 

The  next  moment  he  caught  the  words  of  the  wailing 
cry  that  rolled  up  from  the  grief-stricken  thousands 
above  them.  With  a bound  he  was  in  his  saddle,  and, 
burying  his  spurs  in  the  sides  of  his  horse,  he  dashed 
into  the  midst  of  his  retainers,  his  voice  ringing  with  ex- 
ultant joy  ; 

“ Ho,  men  of  Kai,  we  are  saved  ! We  are  saved ! 
Hear  ye  not  the  lamentations  of  the  Christians  ? Shiro, 
their  commander-in-chief,  and  Paoli — mark  it  well,  the 
accursed  Paoli — are  among  the  slain.  No  more,  heroes, 
shall  we  be  the  sport  of  yeomen  and  rebels  ! Again,  my 


408  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


warriors,  rally  again  around  the  banner  of  your  prince! 
Forward  upon  the  cross  of  the  Christians  !” 

The  effect  which  the  announcement  of  Paoli’s  death 
had  upon  the  hitherto  demoralized  troops  was  electri- 
cal. At  last  their  arch  enemy,  he  whom  they  feared 
more  than  a host  of  common  foes,  was  dead.  A wild, 
tumultuous  shout  went  up  as  they  heard  the  prince’s 
words,  and  thousands,  who  before  had  thought  only  of 
flight,  now,  laughing  and  shouting,  hurried  to  form 
themselves  in  battle  order. 

Summoning  one  of  his  officers,  Nabeshima  dispatched 
him  in  haste  to  Matsudaira  and  the  other  princes  with 
the  tidings,  knowing  that  the  news  of  the  Jesuit’s  death 
would  hasten  the  restoration  of  discipline  in  the  main 
army,  as  it  had  done  in  his  own  command. 

“What  are  you  going  to  do?’’  inquired  Beaumont, 
as  the  prince  dashed  up  to  the  place  where  the  young 
Englishman  was  standing. 

“ Make  a circuit  to  the  south  of  my  camp  and  cut  off 
the  retreat  of  the  Christians  to  their  castle.  If  I mistake 
not,  the  message  that  I have  just  sent  to  Matsudaira  will 
enable  him  to  dispatch  some  troops  presently  against  the 
enemy.  With  my  retainers  stationed  on  the  ridge  before 
their  fortress  and  the  other  princes  harassing  their  rear, 
few,  indeed,  will  it  be  who  shall  live  to  reach  the  shelter 
of  their  walls.” 

The  Englishman  grew  sick  at  heart.  He  wished  him- 
self upon  the  Spuytcn  Duyvil , that  he  might  escape  being 
a witness  of  the  coming  horrors.  Then  suddenly  a ray 
of  hope  came  to  him.  Night  was  at  hand.  He  looked 
about  him  and  perceived  that  already  the  evening  shad- 
ows were  beginning  to  gather  in  the  valleys  and  along 
the  eastern  slopes  of  the  hills.  A glance  at  the  sky  re- 
vealed a dark  mass  of  clouds  rapidly  rolling  up  from  the 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  409 


southwest.  A storm  evidently  was  at  hand.  Under  the 
cover  of  the  darkness  and  aided  by  the  approaching 
tempest,  the  Christians  might  succeed  in  eluding  their 
merciless  foes  and  in  making  good  their  retreat  to  the 
shelter  of  their  walls. 


VII. 

THE  MESSENGER  OK  HEAVY  TIDINGS. 

Nabeshima’s  voice  broke  in  upon  the  Englishman's 
meditations. 

“A  horseman  is  coming  hither  from  the  direction  of  the 
main  army.  Who  he  is  I cannot  make  out.  From  his 
size,  I would  judge  he  is  but  a child.  Ye  gods,  how  he 
lashes  his  horse  !” 

Beaumont  looked  with  careless  indifference  in  the 
direction  which  the  prince  had  pointed  out.  The  ap- 
proaching stranger  was  soon  near  enough  for  the 
beholders  to  perceive  that  man  and  steed  were  well  nigh 
exhausted  and  that  both  were  covered  with  blood.  The 
rider  had  caught  sight  of  Nabeshima  and  the  English- 
man, and  was  urging  his  course  toward  them.  But  when 
he  was  still  at  a considerable  distance,  his  horse  plunged 
forward,  recovered  itself,  and  then  with  a cry  almost 
human  in  the  intensity  of  its  anguish,  it  fell  heavily  to 
the  earth.  Both  Beaumont  and  the  prince  had  caught 
sight  of  the  strange  rider’s  face,  as  he  sank  down  with 
his  falling  steed,  and  both  recognized  him  to  be  Ando 
the  hunchback. 

“It  is  Ando!  he  is  from  Unzen  ! Something  terrible 
has  happened  to  Una  and  her  father  !”  groaned  the 
Englishman,  his  face  ghastly  in  its  death-like  pallor. 


410  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ Wait ! let  us  hear  his  message  !”  the  other  responded, 
with  an  effort  to  be  calm  despite  the  terrible  fear  that 
smote  him.  “Come,”  he  added,  laying  his  hand  upon 
the  shoulder  of  his  dazed  and  trembling  campanion, 
“ let  us  go  to  him.” 

And  the  two  men  hastened  toward  the  place  where  lay 
the  fallen  horse  and  rider. 

“ Ando,  Ando,  what  does  this  mean  ?”  cried  the  English- 
man, kneeling  by  the  side  of  the  sufferer.  “ Who  did 
this  ?” 

The  hunchback  looked  up  into  the  anxious,  horror- 
stricken  face  bending  over  him,  and  a faint  smile  of 
recognition  lit  up  his  pallid,  blood-stained  features. 

“Ay,  Master  Beaumont,  bullet  and  arrow  were  sw'ifter 
in  pursuit  than  were  my  steed  and  I in  flight.  Yet,  thank 
Heaven,  I have  lived  to  reach  you  !” 

“My  cousin,  your  master,  Lord  Mori?”  breathlessly 
inquired  the  prince,  who  had  now  come  up.  “Speak, 
Ando  ! Is  he  safe  ? 

“Thy  cousin,  prince,  is  dead,”  gasped  the  hunchback, 
painfully. 

“ Dead  !” 

“This  afternoon,”  the  dying  man  went  on  brokenly 
and  in  a faint  whisper:  “the  Jesuit  Paoli  and  General 
Shiro  came — surprised  and  slew  the  guards — seized  Lord 
Mori — said  they  would  put  him  to  death — burned  his 
books  before  his  eyes — then  went  to  master,  but  he  was 
already  dead  in  Una’s  arms — broken  heart.” 

The  hunchback  was  fast  losing  strength.  He  seemed 
fully  conscious  of  his  condition,  for  he  struggled  to  con- 
tinue, but  his  voice  died  away  in  a hoarse  rattle  in  his 
throat,  and  a livid  hue  overspread  his  features. 

“ That  accursed  priest  is  still  alive,  then,”  whispered 
Nabeshima  through  his  set  teeth.  “Be  careful  pray, 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  41 1 


Master  Beaumont,  not  to  let  my  men  know  it  at  present. 
It  might  spoil  all  our  plans,  for  our  troops  fear  him  as 
they  would  fear  the  appearance  of  a legion  of  fiends.” 

“ I shall  be  on  my  guard,”  groaned  the  Englishman, 
“ but,  tell  me,  Prince,  shall  we  hear  nothing  of  Una? 
What  has  become  of  her  ? ” 

At  the  mention  of  the  name  of  his  beloved  mistress, 
Ando  seemed  to  rally  slightly.  He  fixed  his  fading  gaze 
on  the  anguished  face  of  Beaumont. 

“ Paoli  would  have  carried  her  a prisoner  into  the 
Christian  castle — Shiro  drew  sword  on  the  Jesuit  and 
saved  her — after  dark  he  will  bring  her  to  Arima,  she  sent 
me  to  you — save  her,  oh,  save  her  ! ” and  again  the  voice  of 
the  speaker  sank  into  silence,  a tremor  shook  his  frame, 
a few  gasping  sighs  fluttered  from  his  lips,  and  then  all 
was  still. 

“ He  is  dead,”  said  Beaumont,  rising  to  his  feet. 
“ Prince,  we  know  the  worst ; what  can  be  done?” 

Nabeshima  had  also  arisen.  “ Una  Mori  can  be  rescued, 
and  that  bloody-handed  priest  can  be  made  to  pay  the 
penalty  of  this  inhuman  murder,”  he  said  promptly,  and 
with  a look  upon  his  face  that  boded  ill  for  Francesco 
Paoli,  should  he  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Prince  of  Kai. 
“ A thousand  of  my  men  shall  mount  horse,  and  with 
you  and  me  at  their  head  shall  ride  with  all  speed  to  in- 
tercept Shiro  before  he  can  escape  into  the  castle.  The 
remainder  of  my  retainers,  under  my  chief  officer,  will 
endeavor  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the  Christians.  Ye 
gods  ! that  accursed  Paoli  must  not  be  allowed  to  rejoin 
the  main  body  of  the  rebels.  All  our  hopes  of  defeating 
the  Christians  depend  upon  that.” 

A sound  at  their  feet  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
two  men.  To  their  astonishment  and  horror,  they  saw 
the  hunchback,  whom  they  had  thought  dead,  sitting  up, 


412  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


his  eyes  wildly  staring  and  the  muscles  of  his  throat  and 
face  writhing  with  hideous  contortions  as  he  strove  to 
speak.  After  a moment  that  seemed  an  hour  to  thebe- 
holders,  Ando  gained  his  voice  and  shrieked  forth  : 

“Gonroku  the  outlaw  and  his  band  are  lying  in  wait 
for  Shiro  in  the  camphor-grove  at  the  end  of  the  ridge  be- 
fore the  Christian  castle.  It  was  they  that  fired  upon  me 
as  I rode  hither.”  And  when  he  had  said  these  words, 
Ando  the  hunchback  fell  back  dead. 


VIII. 

FAITHFUL  TO  THE  LAST. 

It  was  not  strange  that  Ine  Tanaka,  as  she  watched 
Shiro  go  forth  to  battle  with  her  gift  upon  his  breast, 
should  feel  hope  spring  up  anew  in  her  heart.  Ever 
since  their  betrothal  had  been  broken,  he  had,  so  far  as 
was  possible,  avoided  meeting  her,  and  when  this  could 
not  be  done,  he  had  treated  her  with  a studied  coldness. 
But  now  there  was  evidently  a change.  Could  it  be 
possible  that  Shiro  had  renounced  the  idle  fancy  that  so 
long  had  held  him  captive  ? Were  his  thoughts  and 
affections  at  last  turning  toward  her?  Ine  called  to 
mind  the  conversation  they  had  had  the  evening  before, 
how  they  had  gone  down  to  the  chapel  together;  how, 
side  by  side,  they  had  knelt  in  prayer;  and  how  a mur- 
mur of  pleased  surprise  had  passed  through  the  throng 
of  soldiers  before  the  door,  as  she  and  Shiro  came  forth. 

“Yes!”  she  said  to  herself,  with  her  hands  tightly 
clasped  over  her  wildly  beating  heart.  “ After  we  parted 
last  night,  he  carefully  thought  it  all  over  ; he  saw  for 
himself  the  madness  of  his  passion  for  Una  Mori  ; he 
discovered  that  not  alone  does  the  betrothal,  by  which 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  413 


our  parents  sought  to  unite  us,  bind  our  lives  together, 
but  that  it  is  the  will  of  Heaven,  as  expressed  through 
the  wishes  of  God’s  people,  that  we  should  be  one.” 
And  a deep  blush  warmed  the  woman’s  pale  cheeks,  and 
her  large,  lustrous  eyes  kindled  with  the  new  joy  that 
filled  her  soul. 

Then  succeeded  the  slowly  moving  hours  of  that  ter- 
rible day,  with  the  deafening  uproar  of  battle  booming 
across  the  plain  and  bringing  deathly  pallor  to  the  faces 
of  hundreds  of  wives  and  mothers  on  the  walls  of  Hara 
Castle.  With  what  anxious  suspense,  with  what  alter- 
nating hope  and  fear,  with  what  agony  of  prayer  did  they 
not  watch  the  awful  struggle  before  them  ! From  noon 
until  evening,  scores  of  wounded  soldiers  came  into  the 
castle,  and  the  sorrowful  watchers  found  employment  as 
well  as  relaxation  from  their  intense  anxiety  in  minis- 
tering to  the  needs  of  these  unfortunate  ones.  Then 
there  was  also  consolation  in  their  reports  of  the  glorious 
victory  that  husbands,  brothers  and  fathers  were  winning 
over  the  infidel. 

Among  the  wounded  that  had  come  back  to  the  arms 
of  loved  ones,  and  among  the  little  groups  of  weeping 
women  and  children,  whose  tears  fell  for  those  who 
would  return  to  them  no  more,  like  a ministering  angel 
of  healing  and  comfort,  moved  the  queenly  figure  of 
Ine  Tanaka.  And  the  long  afternoon  wore  on  until,  in 
the  dusk  of  the  evening,  there  sped  across  the  plain, 
along  the  ridge  and  through  the  gates  of  Hara  Castle 
that  terrible  cry  which,  in  the  ruined  camp  of  the  heathen, 
had  transformed  the  ranks  of  a victorious  army  into  a 
disorderly  rout : “ Our  general  and  Bishop  Paoli  are 

among  the  killed  ! Shiro’s  body  has  just  been  found  !” 

Ine  Tanaka,  at  the  moment  when  the  tidings  came, 
was  bending  over  a wounded  soldier.  The  man  had 


414  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


received  a deep  and  painful  sword-cut  across  the  left 
shoulder,  and,  though  the  woman’s  knowledge  of  sur- 
gery was  only  such  as  daily  practice  in  dressing  wounds 
with  the  rudest  possible  appliances  had  given  her,  yet 
native  tact  and  a steady  and  skillful  hand  had  enabled 
her  to  effect  what  the  people  had  pronounced  miraculous 
cures.  The  present  case  was  a peculiarly  difficult  one, 
and  she  was  closely  absorbed  in  the  work  before  her, 
when  some  one  standing  near  suddenly  cried  out  : 

“ Listen,  listen  ! Hear  what  they  are  saying  out  yon- 
der ! General  Shiro  and  Bishop  Paoli  are  killed  !”  and 
a wailing  cry  went  up  from  all  present. 

Ine  bent  forward.  The  wounded  man  sitting  before 
her  told  afterward  how  he  feared  she  was  about  to  fall 
across  his  disabled  shoulder  and  how  he  threw  up  his  un- 
wounded arm  to  shield  himself.  But  she  did  not  fall. 
He  saw  her  drop  the  bandages  she  was  holding  and  twice 
or  three  times  violently  strike  her  breast  with  her  clinched 
hands,  her  face  meanwhile  blanching  to  adeath-iike  pale- 
ness and  her  breath  coming  in  quick,  hard  sobs.  Then 
she  seemed  to  recover  herself  and  quietly  proceeded  to 
dress  his  wound. 

The  eyes  of  all  present  were  turned  upon  her  in  sor- 
rowful sympathy,  and  some  of  the  weeping  women  came 
forward  to  comfort,  as  best  they  could,  the  one  whose 
tenderly  consoling  words  had  so  often  fallen  like  balm 
into  their  own  aching  hearts.  When  she  had  finished  her 
work  upon  the  wounded  soldier,  Ine  turned  to  one  of  the 
women  that  had  been  assisting  her  : 

“ I have  placed  all  the  bandages,  Mine,  and  with  care- 
ful nursing  the  wound  will  heal.  Will  you  see  that  he 
has  it  ? And  Ichiji,  yonder,  needs  some  of  that  medicine 
I showed  you  yesterday  ; go,  pray,  to  my  room  and  get 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  415 


it  for  him,”  and  the  speaker  made  as  if  she  would  pass 
out. 

“And  you,  Mistress  Ine,”  said  the  woman,  tearfully, 
“ are  you  going  to  leave  us  ?” 

“ I ? Ah,  yes,  I — I think  I will  leave  you;”  the  woman 
replied,  a faint  smile  on  her  weary  features — Ine  seemed 
to  have  suddenly  grown  old: — “I  must  have  some  fresh 
air,  I am  suffocating  here  and  with  these  words,  she 
passed  out  and  down  into  the  open  area  in  the  first 
division  of  the  castle. 

The  place  was  full  of  wounded  soldiers  and  old  men 
and  youths  discussing  the  terrible  calamity.  But  it  was 
already  growing  dark,  and  she  passed  through  the  midst 
of  the  excited  throng  without  being  recognized.  Hasten- 
ing on  toward  the  gates,  she  met  a youth  with  a chochin* 
in  his  hand.  She  stopped  and  spoke  to  him  : 

“ Friend,  thou  dost  not  need  that  chochin  as  much  as  I. 
Wilt  thou  give  it  to  me  ?” 

The  boy  raised  his  light  and  peered  into  her  face.  He 
recognized  her,  and,  making  a low  bow,  said  : 

“Ah,  it  is  thou,  Mistress  Ine!  Certainly,  this  poor 
chochin  is  thine,  if  thou  wishest  it.  But,  if  it  please  thee 
to  wait  a moment,  I shall  get  thee  a better  one.”  Then 
suddenly,  as  if  recollecting  himself  : “ Hast  thou  heard 

the  news,  Mistress  Ine  ?” 

“ Yes,  yes,  I have  heard  Thou  needest  not  get  another; 
this  will  do.”  And  the  woman  hurried  away,  concealing 
the  light  of  the  chochin  by  wrapping  her  neckerchief 
about  it. 

At  the  gateway,  there  was  another  throng  of  men,  but 
Ine,  crouching  in  the  shadow  of  the  wall,  waited  until  a 
party  of  wounded  warriors  came  in  from  the  plain.  Then 


* Paper  lantern. 


416  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


she  darted  past  these  and  out  upon  the  ridge.  She  ran 
on  through  the  gathering  blackness  until  she  reached  the 
plain,  and  there  she  paused.  Where  was  she  going  ? and 
for  what  ? Her  brain  whirled  ; she  was  powerless  to 
think.  She  sat  down  on  a stone  by  the  wayside,  pressing 
her  hands  to  her  hot,  tearless  eyes. 

“ Oh  ! if  I could  only  weep!”  she  moaned  piteously. 
“Other  women  have  tears;  but  I — merciful  Father  ! my 
brain  is  on  fire  !” 

The  sound  of  approaching  steps  fell  upon  her  ear. 
T wo  soldiers  were  returning  from  the  field,  and  they  were 
conversing  together  in  sorrowful  tones.  Ine  listened. 

“ Yes,  it  was  a terrible  sight,”  one  was  saying.  “ May 
the  saints  shield  my  eyes  from  another  such  ! He  was 
burned  beyond  recognition.  I turned  him  over  on  his 
back,  and  there,  closely  clasped  to  his  bosom,  was  this 
gold  crucifix.” 

The  woman  rose,  and,  bending  forward,  strained  her 
eyes  through  the  darkness  in  the  direction  of  the  ap- 
proaching figures.  The  other  man  now  spoke  : 

“ It  is  the  cross  that  Ine  Tanaka  gave  him  this  morning, 
as  he  was  going  into  the  battle.  I saw  her  as  she 
dropped  it  to  him  from  the  top  of  the  wall  upon  which 
she  was  sitting.  All  who  saw  their  parting  believed 
that  they  had  renewed  their  betrothal.  But  now, 
alas, — 

Ine  waited  to  hear  no  more.  She  knew  now  why  she 
had  come  forth  from  the  castle.  She  stepped  forward, 
as  the  two  men  were  passing  her,  and,  uncovering  her 
chochin , flashed  its  light  into  their  faces. 

“ Friends,”  she  panted  breathlessly,  “I  pray  you  give 
me  the  cross.  I am  she  to  whom  it  belongs.  And  tell 
me,  where  can  I find  him  ?” 

“Ine  Tanaka  ! thou  here?”  exclaimed  the  man  whom 


STANDING  CALMLY  ERECT,  SHE  SWUNG  THE  LANTERN  ABOVE  HER  HEAD.— See  Page  420. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  419 

she  had  first  heard  speaking.  “ Here’s  the  crucifix,  mis- 
tress; woeful  tidings  it  brings  back  to  thee  !” 

The  woman  scarcely  heard  him.  She  had  greedily 
seized  the  cross  and  was  passionately  pressing  it  to  her 
heart. 

“ His  body — where  is  it  ” she  demanded. 

“Yonder  to  the  right  of  those  fires,”  said  the  other 
soldier,  pointing  to  where  the  smoldering  ruins  of  Nabe- 
shima’s  camp  still  sent  up  fitful  flashes  into  the  night. 
“Hundreds  of  our  brethren  are  there  searching  for  the 
bishop’s  body.  But,  surely,  Mistress  Ine,  you  are  not 
going—” 

“I  must  go  ! I must  go,  where  he  is?”  the  woman 
cried  wildly,  and  before  the  men  could  protest,  she  had 
darted  off  into  the  darkness. 

Ine  again  concealed  her  cochin  as  she  hurried  toward 
the  distant  lights.  All  about  her  the  plain  seemed  to  be 
full  of  men  shouting  to  one  another,  but  whether  they 
were  friends  or  foes,  she  knew  not.  As  she  ran  on,  her 
lips  moved  in  audible  prayer  : 

“Dear  Father  in  Heaven  ! Let  me  live  until  I reach 
his  side  ! I am  weak  ; my  heart  is  so  heavy,  it  burdens 
me  as  I run  ! Give  me  strength  to  endure  a little  lon- 
ger !’ 

Then  she  remembered  how  she  and  Shiro  had  parted 
in  the  morning,  and  the  words  of  the  soldier  she  had 
just  passed  rose  in  her  mind. 

“I  was  right,”  she  murmured  softly,  a smile  of  ineffable 
peace  transfiguring  her  countenance.  “He  had  in  his 
heart  come  back  to  me.  Others  who  beheld  our  part- 
ing thought  us  lovers.  Father  in  Heaven  ! I thank 
thee  for  this  ! It  will  sweeten  death.” 

She  had  now  reached  the  battle-field,  and  in  her  blind 
haste,  she  stumbled  over  a dead  body.  As  she  fell,  her 


420  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


face  come  in  contact  with  that  of  the  corpse,  and  its 
coldness,  sent  a chill  to  her  heart.  With  a shiver,  she 
slowly  rose  and  resumed  her  way,  this  time  at  a rapid 
walk. 

The  number  of  the  dead  increased  as  she  advanced  ; for 
she  was  now  traversing  that  portion  of  the  field  where, 
early  in  the  day,  Kuroda’s  retainers  had  so  gallantly  de- 
fended their  camp  against  the  assault  of  Oyana  and  his 
Christians.  Suddenly,  the  woman  felt  a great  horror  seize 
upon  her,  and  she  stopped.  At  her  feet  lay  a fallen  war- 
rior, his  armor  and  clothing  burned  away  ; and  Ine  Tan- 
aka remembered  the  words  of  the  soldier  she  had  met : 
“ He  was  burned  beyond  recognition.”  Could  it  be  that 
this  charred  and  loathsome  thing  before  her  was  what  she 
had  come  forth  to  seek  ? She  would  have  knelt  by  the 
corpse  to  examine  it  more  closely  had  she  not  just  then 
become  conscious  of  a heavy,  trampling  sound  ahead  of 
her — at  first,  distant,  but  rapidly  drawing  nearer  ; and, 
as  it  approached,  the  woman  recognized  it  to  be  the  quick 
beating  of  horses’  feet  upon  the  frozen  ground.  She 
looked  up,  and  could  distinguish  a dark  line  along  the 
crest  of  the  hill  above  her,  and  between  her  and  the  dis- 
tant fires.  It  was  a large  body  of  mounted  soldiers,  riding 
with  furious  speed  straight  down  upon  her.  Then  Ine 
Tanaka  knew  what  her  fate  was  to  be.  She  made  no  at- 
tempt to  escape  ; any  such  effort  would  have  been  futile. 

“ I would  have  had  it  otherwise,”  she  said  in  her  heart ; 
and  then,  audibly,  as  she  pressed  the  crucifix  fondly  to 
her  lips  : “ But  Thy  will,  O Father — not  mine  !” 

Drawing  her  garments  closely  about  her,  the  woman 
again  looked  in  the  direction  of  the  swiftly  approaching 
troop.  As  she  did  this  she  bethought  herself  of  the  chochin. 
Hastily  uncovering  this  and  standing  calmly  erect,  she 
swung  the  lantern  above  her  head.  A loud  cry  arose 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  421 


from  the  lips  of  the  foremost  rider,  as  he  saw  the  light 
almost  beneath  him.  The  next  instant  his  horse  had 
bounded  past  the  woman,  the  rider’s  foot,  however,  strik- 
ing her  shoulder  and  hurling  her  upon  her  back.  In  the 
very  shadow  of  death,  Ine’s  mind  suddenly  became  clear 
and  preternaturally  active.  Strange,  incongruous  im- 
ages danced  before  her  eyes  in  the  brief  interval  between 
the  horse  that  had  already  dashed  over  her  and  the  one 
that  followed  hard  after.  She  clasped  the  crucifix  closely  to 
her  heart.  “ Saviour  Jesu,  take  me!”  she  prayed,  and  then 
she  looked  up.  Over  her  hung  the  huge,  dark  form  of  the 
second  horse,  his  forefeet  plunging  down  upon  her  breast. 
Her  chochin , which  the  heels  of  the  other  steed  had  dashed 
out  of  her  hand,  had  been  hurled  against  the  rider  above 
her,  and  as  the  candle  blazed  up  fiercely  for  an  instant, 
its  light  fell  upon  the  face  of  Nabeshima,  Prince  of  Kai; 
and,  in  the  passing  flash,  Ine  Tanaka  saw  that  he  had  seen 
and  recognized  her. 

And  then  the  light  in  the  chochin  went  out  forever. 


IX. 

ALAS,  TOO  LATE  ! 

The  consternation  that  had  spread  like  wild-fire  through 
the  ranks  of  the  Christian  army  over  the  supposed  dis- 
covery of  Shiro’s  body  gave  no  signs  of  abating  after  the 
men  had  scattered  far  and  wide  through  the  ruined  camp 
of  the  enemy  in  search  of  their  dead  bishop.  Night  came 
on,  and  still  the  Christians  continued  to  grope  about 
among  the  slain,  bending  down  and  peering  into  the 
face  of  each  corpse  to  discover  if  its  features  were  those 
of  him  whom  they  sought.  Then  there  arose,  in  the 


422  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


darkness  beyond  them,  a wild  clamor  of  yells  and  fierce, 
exulting  cries. 

“ Hear  that ! ” exclaimed  Oyano.  “ Hear  that ! What 
does  it  mean  ?” 

“ It  means,”  said  Ashizuka,  a grim  look  of  despair  upon 
his  battle-scarred  visage,  “that  Matsudaira and  his  army 
have  heard  of  the  death  of  Shiro  and  Paoli,  and  have  also 
learned  of  the  panic  and  disorder  into  which  we  have  been 
thrown.  In  a short  time,  they  will  be  upon  us.” 

“ Heaven  help  us  ! ” groaned  Chijiwa.  “So  near  to 
victory  as  were  we,  and  now  on  the  brink  of  utter 
destruction  ! ” 

“Something  must  be  done  !”  Ashizuka  cried,  wildly. 
“ Yaso-Maria,  comrades  ! our  wives,  our  little  ones — shall 
we  thus  easily  yield  them  a prey  to  yonder  butchers  ? 
Oyano,  ride  thou  in  that  direction  ; and  thou,  Chijiwa, 
spur  to  the  left.  I shall  take  charge  of  those  directly 
before  us.  Let  us  make  one  more  desperate  effort  to  rally 
the  men.  Haste  ye  ! haste  ye,  comrades  ! Hear  ye  not 
that  ? It  is  the  enemy  already  in  motion  ! Woe  ! Woe  ! ” 

Fortunately  for  the  three  intrepid  leaders,  who  now 
again  threw  themselves  into  the  midst  of  the  Christians 
in  an  endeavor  to  call  them  off  from  their  mad,  fruitless 
search,  the  soldiers,  also,  had  heard  the  wild  shouts  in 
the  direction  of  the  government  troops,  and  were  them- 
selves anxiously  inquiring  of  one  another  what  it  might 
mean.  When  the  voices  of  their  leaders,  -therefore, 
warned  them  of  their  approaching  peril,  and  called  upon 
them  to  fall  in  line  and  to  retreat  to  the  shelter  of 
the  castle,  their  words  were  listened  to  with  close  atten- 
tion, and  soon  something  like  order  began  to  appear 
among  the  broken  and  dispersed  troops.  But  in  the 
panic,  many  of  the  men  had  thrown  away  their  guns  and 
spears,  and  some  even  their  swords,  and  the  work  of 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  423 


dividing  the  soldiers  into  companies  was  retarded  by  the 
search  for  weapons. 

In  the  meantime,  Nabeshima’s  troop  of  horse  had 
thundered  past  them,  followed  closely  by  the  remainder 
of  his  division  on  foot,  and  the  Christian  leaders  knew 
that  the  wily  Prince  of  Kai  was  hurrying  his  force  into 
a position  where  he  could  cut  off  their  retreat  to  their 
castle.  Shortly  afterward,  and  before  they  had  finished 
marshaling  their  men  into  divisions,  they  suddenly  found 
themselves  assailed  by  an  overwhelmingly  large  body  of 
troops  from  Matsudaira’s  army.  Outnumbered  more 
than  four  to  one,  the  Christians,  despite  their  stubborn 
resistance,  were  slowly  swept  backward  down  the  sloping 
hill-side,  across  the  plain  in  the  direction  of  their  fortress, 
and  right  upon  the  swords  of  the  eight  thousand  men  of 
Kai,  drawn  up  before  the  ridge  leading  to  the  castle. 

“ Yaso-taiji ! ”*  rose  the  savage  war-cry  of  Nabeshima’s 
retainers,  in  the  face  of  the  devoted  Christains,  “ Yaso- 
taiji !"  rolled  back  the  mad  echo,  from  the  thousands  of 
the  infidel  closing  in  upon  either  flank  and  pressing  upon 
them  from  the  rear. 

And  then  the  slaughter,  grim,  merciless  and  terrible  ! 

X. 

AN  UNEXPECTED  MEETING. 

In  the  shadow  of  a small  grove  of  camphor-trees,  near 
where  the  ridge  before  Hara  Castle  joined  the  open  plain, 
Marmion  Beaumont  and  the  thousand  mounted  warriors 
of  Kai  were  silently  awaiting  the  coming  of  Shiro  and 
Paoli  from  Unzen.  It  was  here  that  Ando  had  said  the 


*Do\vn  with  the  Christian. 


424  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


terrible  Gonroku  and  his  band  of  desperadoes  were  lying 
in  ambush ; but  the  Englishman  and  the  men  placed  under 
his  command  had  been  unable  to  discover  their  where- 
abouts, and  the  heart  of  the  lover  sank  with  anxious 
forebodings  lest  the  robbers  were  planning  to  attack 
Shiro’s  party  at  some  point  nearer  the  mountains. 

The  night  had  now  fully  come,  and  in  the  dense  dark- 
ness it  was  impossible  to  distinguish  objects  farther  than 
a spear’s  length  from  the  eye.  Beaumont  dismounted, 
and  giving  his  horse  into  the  charge  of  a soldier,  moved 
across  the  plain  in  the  direction  of  Unzen,  hoping  that 
he  might  be  able  to  hear  the  approach  of  Una  and  her 
captors.  As  he  neared  the  foothills  he  paused  and 
listened;  but  the  battle  was  now  raging  on  the  plain,  be- 
tween the  Christians  and  the  government  troops,  and  the 
uproar  of  the  conflict  together  with  the  shrieking  of  the 
wind,  which  was  blowing  a fierce  gale,  filled  the  air  with 
a deafening  clamor.  Just  then  a vivid  flash  of  lightning 
flamed  across  the  sky,  and  this  was  followed  by  a heavy 
peal  of  thunder  that  reverberated  back  and  forth  among 
the  mountains  in  successive  crashes  of  sound.  The 
Englishman  felt  a few  heavy  drops  of  rain  dashed  into 
his  face.  Then  succeeded  a momentary  lull  that  was 
broken  by  another  blinding  flash,  with  its  accompanying 
roar  of  thunder,  and  then  the  rain  poured  down  in  stifling 
torrents  ; the  storm,  that  had  so  long  been  gathering, 
now  burst  with  all  the  sudden  fury  of  a tornado. 

“What  a night  !”  groaned  the  Englishman,  retracing 
his  steps  in  the  direction  of  the  camphor-grove.  “And 
thou,  my  Una,  my  poor  darling,  where  art  thou  ? In  the 
hands  of  thy  father’s  murderers,  wandering  with  them 
upon  the  mountains  and  exposed  to  this  bitter  tempest  ? 
or,  Father  in  Heaven,  forbid  it  ! art  thou  already  fallen 
into  the  power  of  that  robber-fiend  ? O,  Una,  Una,  how 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  425 


gladly  I would  die  for  thee,  my  darling,  and  yet,  how 
powerless  I am  to  stand  between  thee  and  thy  foes ! 
Would  to  God  I knew  where  I might  seek  thee  !” 

* Again  the  lightning  blazed  out,  and  in  the  vivid  glare, 
the  mountains  and  the  plain,  the  war-junks  and  the  tall 
masts  of  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  on  the  bay,  the  walls  of  the 
beleagured  castle,  the  desolated  camp  of  the  infidel  and 
the  heavy  masses  of  fighting  men  beyond  the  camphor- 
grove  were  all  revealed  in  startling  distinctness.  Despite 
the  tempest  that  beat  upon  the  heads  of  the  combatants, 
the  conflict  raged  with  an  ever-increasing  fury,  and  the 
uproar  of  battle  swelled  loud  above  the  bellowing  of  the 
storm. 

“ Beaumont  ! Heer  Beaumont !”  The  Englishman 
started.  Surely  some  one  was  calling  his  name.  He 
listened,  and  again  a voice  rose  to  him  out  of  the  black- 
ness to  his  left : “ Mynheer  Beaumont  !”  The  young 
man,  straining  his  eyes  in  the  direction  whence  came  the 
sound,  shouted  back  : 

“ Who  art  thou  ?” 

“ Van  Sy It,”  came  the  clear  response,  and  the  figure  of 
a man  loomed  up  through  the  darkness. 

“’Sdeath!  Van  Sylt !”  exclaimed  Beaumont,  forget- 
ting for  the  instant  the  anxious  fear  that  tortured  him, 
in  his  amazement  at  this  unexpected  appearance  of  the 
first  officer  of  the  Spuyten  Duyvil.  “Thou  here,  and  at 
such  a time  as  this  ! Man,  art  thou  mad  ?” 

“ Not  mad,  Mynheer,”  the  other  replied.  “Hast  thou 
forgotten  what  once  I told  thee  on  the  deck  of  our  ship 
in  Nagasaki  Bay?” 

“Ah,  I remember.  The  day  after  that  dreadful  massa- 
cre on  Takaboka  you  told  me  that  you  had  made  a vow 
never  again  to  stand  by  and  to  behold  Christians  slaugh- 


426  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


tered  by  the  infidel  without  drawing  sword  in  their  de- 
fense.” 

“Mynheer  Beaumont,  what  is  happening  yonder  to- 
night ? Has  not  the  time  come  for  me  to  keep  my 
vow  ?” 

“Alas  ! Van  Sylt,  you  cannot  help  them.  You  only 
throw  away  your  own  life.” 

“So  be  it.  I shall  die  with  them.  Speak  no  more, 
Mynheer;  expostulation  is  useless.  Van  Neist  and  his 
men  tried  it  before  I left  the  Spuyten  Duyvil.  I shall  keep 
the  vow  I have  registered  in  Heaven.  But,  how  is  it  that 
I find  thee  here  and  alone  ?” 

The  Englishman,  seeing  the  uselessness  of  any  further 
attempt  to  dissuade  the  officer  from  his  purpose,  briefly 
informed  him  of  the  events  of  the  day  and  the  present 
condition  of  affairs. 

“ Can  it  be  possible  that  Paoli,  whom  all  these  years 
I have  revered  as  a saint,  has  thus  fallen  !”  cried  Van 
Sylt,  utterly  overwhelmed  by  the  information  he  had 
received.  “ Mynheer  Beaumont,  had  any  other  man  said 
what  you  have  just  told  me,  I would  have  drawn  sword 
upon  him.  But  something  in  my  heart  tells  me  I must 
believe  you,  that  all  you  say  is  the  truth.” 

The  unhappy  officer  had  thrown  himself  upon  the 
ground. 

“ Go,  Mynheer,  go  ; leave  me  !”  he  cried,  brokenly. 
“ What  you  have  said  stuns  me.  I would  be  alone.  Go, 
and  Heaven  grant  that  your  loved  one  be  restored  to 
you  ; but  go,  go  !” 

“ Farewell,  then  !”  the  Englishman  responded,  bend- 
ing down  and  wringing  the  officer’s  hand.  “I  would 
say  more,  Van  Sylt,  but  my  own  heart  is  too  full  and 
choking  back  the  sobs  that  already  shook  his  voice, 
Beaumont  plunged  down  the  hill-side  in  the  direction 


Paoli  : the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  427 


of  the  camphor-grove.  Here  upon  his  arrival,  he  found 
Nabeshima  anxiously  awaiting  him. 

“ Ye  gods  ! Master  Beaumont,”  the  prince  exclaimed 
with  a deep  sigh  of  relief,  “ we  were  becoming  alarmed, 
about  you.” 

“ O Prince !”  cried  the  Englishman,  and  his  voice 
sounded  like  a wail.  “This  suspense  is  killing  me!  It 
drove  me  forth  to  seek  her  ; it  has  brought  me  back 
despairing  of  ever  beholding  her  face  again."  Then,  as 
if  suddenly  recollecting  himself,  the  speaker  put  out  his 
hand  and  laid  it  on  Nabeshima’s  arm.  “Pardon  me, 
dear  friend,”  he  continued,  gently.  “ My  own  great 
sorrow  has  made  me  forgetful  of  thine.  I remember 
we  all  rode  hither  and  left  thee  alone  there  on  the  hill- 
side— alone  with  her — ” 

He  said  no  more,  for  a dazzling  flash  lit  up  Nabeshima’s 
face,  and  in  the  awful  anguish  written  there,  Beaumont 
read  the  terrible  truth.  The  prince  spoke  : 

“She  was  still  alive,  Master  Beaumont,  when,  spring- 
ing from  my  saddle,  I hurried  to  her  side.  My  horse  had 
struck  her  breast,  the  blood  was  flowing  from  her  mouth, 
and,  as  I raised  her  up,  I saw  that  she  had  but  a 
moment  to  live.  She  looked  up  into  my  face  and  recog- 
nized me.  ‘Was  it  thou  who  killed  him?’  she  whispered 
faintly.  I knew  whom  she  meant,  and  answered  : ‘ No, 
no  ! I did  not  kill  him  ! I could  not  tell  her  that  he  was 
alive  and  false  to  her.  My  tears  fell  upon  her  face.  Ine  ! 
Ine  !’  I cried,  and  could  say  no  more.  Again  the  eyes  of 
the  dying  woman  sought  mine.  ‘ Do  not  sorrow,’  she 
murmured,  almost  inaudibly.  ‘Thou  art  not  to  blame 
for  this,  and,  thank  God  ! thou  art  not  his  slayer  ! I die 
happy  !’  and  with  a peaceful  smile  upon  her  features,  she 
sank  back  lifeless  in  my  arms.” 

None  other  knew  so  well,  as  did  Marmion  Beaumont, 


428  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Nabeshima’s  love  for  Ine  Tanaka.  In  their  conversations 
together,  the  prince  had  often  spoken  of  it,  and  he  had 
never  given  up  the  hope  that,  in  the  general  destruction 
which  he  knew  would  soon  befall  the  Christians,  he  might 
be  able  to  save  her,  and  that  some  time  she  would  yet  be 
his  wife.  And  now,  instead  of  being  her  deliverer,  it  had 
been  through  him  she  had  met  her  death. 

The  two  men  stood  side  by  side  for  a time,  the  emotions 
that  filled  the  hearts  of  both  forbidding  speech.  Nabesh- 
ima  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence  : 

“ I must  go,  Master  Beaumont.  My  troops,  under  the 
command  of  my  chief  officer,  are  performing  prodigies  of 
valor,  and  duty  calls  me  to  their  side.  I shall  leave  you 
a hundred  of  these  mounted  warriors.  With  these  wait 
here  and  have  hope.” 

“ How  goes  the  battle,  Prince  ?”  inquired  the  English- 
man, as  his  companion  vaulted  into  the  saddle.  “ But  why 
do  I say  battle?”  he  continued  sadly.  “It  is  now  noth- 
ing more  than  a massacre.” 

In  the  darkness,  the  speaker  could  not  see  the  expres- 
sion of  pain  and  displeasure  that  clouded  Nabeshima’s 
face,  but  he  was  conscious  of  a coldness  in  the  tone  of  his 
reply  : 

“Not  massacre,  but  execution,  I pray  you,  friend. 
Remember,  that  we  are  dealing  with  men  guilty  of  treason 
against  the  government  of  our  nation.  As  such,  they  de- 
serve death,  and  what  form  of  death  ought  to  be  more 
acceptable  to  them  than  to  fall,  as  they  are  falling  to-night, 
with  swords  in  their  hands  and  the  opportunity  given  them 
of  selling  their  lives  dearly.  But  let  me  tell  you,”  he 
added,  in  a serious  but  more  friendly  tone,  “ the  Chris- 
tians are  yet  far  from  being  conquered.  They  stand  out 
yonder  in  a solid  square,  and,  like  lions  at  bay,  give  thrust 
for  thrust  and  blow  for  blow,”  and  with  these  words,  the 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  429 


prince,  followed  by  all  his  mounted  warriors,  save  the 
hundred  he  had  assigned  to  Beaumont,  dashed  off  in  the 
direction  of  the  conflict. 


XI. 

RETRIBUTION. 

Under  the  cover  of  some  rocks  a short  distance  beyond 
the  place  where  Marmion  Beaumont  had  met  the  first  offi- 
cer of  the  Spuyten  Duyvil , five  men  were  sheltering  them- 
selves, as  best  they  could,  from  the  violence  of  the  storm. 
As  the  lightning,  flaming  across  the  sky,  blazed  in  their 
desperate-looking  faces,  it  revealed  among  them  the  bru- 
tal features  of  Gonroku  the  outlaw.  The  gang  had  first 
taken  up  their  position  at  the  point  where  the  little  hunch- 
back had  seen  them  ; but  the  coming  of  Nabeshima’s 
mounted  troop  had  caused  them  to  withdraw  to  a place 
of  greater  safety.  Here,  by  the  side  of  a deep  gorge,  they 
were  awaiting  the  coming  of  Sliiro  and  his  party. 

“Eh,  comrades  !”  roared  the  harsh  voice  of  the  robber- 
chief,  as  the  thunder  burst  with  a deafening  peal  above 
their  heads,  “ what  think  ye  of  this  ? A fine  night  for  the 
wooing  of  the  maid  of  Unzen  ! By  the  tooth  of  Buddha! 
the  bride  tarries  too  long.  Ah  !”  he  exclaimed,  as  another 
flash  revealed  the  figure  of  a man  hastening  down  the 
rocks  toward  them,  “ here  comes  Gohei  ! We’ll  see  if  he 
brings  us  tidings  of  our  fair  one.” 

In  another  minute,  Gohei  was  among  them. 

“ They  are  coming,  Gonroku  ! ” he  shouted  breathlessly; 
“and,  by  my  sword  ! had  we  arranged  their  order  of 
march  to  suit  our  purpose,  we  could  not  have  done  better 
than  they  have.” 


430  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“And  the  barbarian  priest,  Paoli — saw  you  him?” 
cried  the  gang,  with  one  voice. 

“ He  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  I waited  and  watched, 
but,  though  flash  after  flash  made  the  whole  gorge  as 
clearly  visible  as  in  broad  day,  yet  I saw  nothing  of  him. 
You  remember  we  heard  that  he  and  Shiro  fought  at  the 
hermitage.  It  is  likely,  therefore,  he  is  returning  to  the 
castle  alone,  and  by  another  route.” 

“Now  Buddha  grant  that  your  surmise  be  correct;’’ 
growled  Gonroku.  “Rather  had  I loose  Una  of  Unzen 
than  risk  an  encounter  with  that  big  barbarian  ! ” 

“ Silence  all  ! ” commanded  Gohei,  in  a warning  voice. 
“ Methought  I saw  them  in  that  blaze  that  just  passed 
over  us.”  Then,  as  another  flash  lit  up  the  road  that  ran 
past  their  place  of  ambush,  he  called  back  to  the  others  : 
“ They  come  ! ” 

With  the  next  gleam  of  the  lightning,  the  robbers  be- 
held Shiro’s  party  slowly  approaching  them.  First  came 
about  a score  of  the  body-guard,  the  horses  carefully 
picking  their  way  among  the  rocks  that  just  here  en- 
cumbered the  road,  and  the  riders  bent  forward  over 
their  saddle-bows  to  shield  their  faces  from  the  fury  of 
the  storm.  Behind  these,  and  at  a considerable  distance 
from  them,  they  saw  Shiro,  and  close  by  his  side  rode 
Una  Mori.  After  these,  five  or  six  men,  armed  merely 
with  swords,  brought  up  the  rear. 

Gonroku  and  his  band  waited  until  those  in  advance 
had  passed  by,  and  then,  as  Una’s  horse  came  opposite 
their  place  of  concealment,  they  sprang  forth  to  the 
attack.  Their  work  was  swift  and  terrible.  The  well- 
nigh  constant  glare  of  the  lightning  guided  their  blows  : 
the  suddenness  of  their  onslaught  made  defense  im- 
possible. With  a hollow  groan,  Shiro,  stricken  to  the 
heart  by  the  sword  of  Gonroku,  clutched  frantically  at 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  431 


his  saddle  bow  and  then  plunged  heavily  to  the  earth. 
The  other  Christians  sank  as  quickly  beneath  the  blades 
of  the  outlaw’s  companions.  Una’s  terrified  shriek,  as 
she  caught  sight  of  the  robber-chief,  was  the  only  cry 
that  rose  from  the  doomed  little  company,  and  her  voice 
was  drowned  in  the  mad  roar  of  the  gale.  Unconscious 
of  the  fate  that  had  overtaken  their  friends,  the  advance- 
guard  pushed  steadily  on  through  the  blinding  storm 
that  beat  into  their  faces  ; before  them,  death  in  the  plain, 
and  death  in  the  mountain  pass  behind  them. 


XII. 

“paoli  to  the  rescue!” 

When  NaDeshima  told  the  Englishman  that  the  Chris- 
tians were  fighting  like  lions  at  bay,  he  did  not  at  all 
exaggerate  the  stubborn  fury  with  which  the  insurgents 
were  meeting  the  assault  of  their  enemies,  who  now  sur- 
rounded them  on  every  side.  There  was  no  trace  of  the 
panic  and  terror  that  but  an  hour  or  so  before  had  pos- 
sessed them.  All  that  had  passed  away,  and  they  were 
again  the  indomitable  warriors  that  so  often  in  times  past 
had  carried  destruction  into  the  ranks  of  the  infidel. 
True,  on  former  occasions,  they  had  been  inspired  by  the 
courage  born  of  the  hope  that,  in  the  end,  their  cause 
would  triumph.  No  such  feelings  animated  them  now. 
Their  present  desperate  valor  sprang  from  despair  and 
the  grim  determination  to  slay  as  many  as  possible 
before  they  themselves  were  slain.  In  the  frequent 
flashes  that  lit  up  the  dismal  scene  of  death  about  them, 
they  at  times  raised  their  eyes  to  the  walls  of  the  castle 
so  near  to  them,  yet  so  inaccessible,  and,  in  their  hearts, 


43 2 Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


they  bade  an  everlasting  farewell  to  the  wives  and  moth- 
ers whose  pale  faces  they  beheld  looking  down  upon  them. 

And  thus  they  fought  on,  forgetful  of  hunger  and 
weariness,  oblivious  of  the  warring  skies  above  them  ; 
oblivious  of  the  piles  of  ghastly  slain  fast  heaping  up 
beneath  their  feet,  conscious  only  of  that  encircling  line 
of  gleaming  swords  that  with  irresistible  steadiness 
drew  closer  and  closer  about  them.  First  Chijiwa  fell, 
and  then  the  brave  Oyano.  Komekine  was  dragged 
back  mortally  wounded  into  the  center  of  the  square, 
and  still  Ashizuka’s  battle-cry  of  “ Yaso-Maria  ” thrilled 
the  hearts  of  the  survivors  and  nerved  their  arms  to  fight. 
Dashing  hither  and  thither  like  a madman,  he  dealt  death 
wheresoever  he  directed  his  headlong  course,  himself 
seeming  to  bear  a charmed  life  among  the  countless 
weapons  of  the  foe  leveled  against  him. 

But  hark  ! what  was  that  cry  that  rose,  like  a wail  of 
terror,  loud  above  the  mingled  thunders  of  storm  and 
battle?  Ashizuka’s  horse  reared  back  upon  his  haun- 
ches, so  suddenly  did  the  rider  rein  him  in.  Could  it 
be  that  he  heard  aright?  Again  the  cry  rang  out,  and 
in  the  light  shed  from  the  blazing  skies,  Ashizuka,  rising 
in  his  saddle,  looked  over  the  dense  ranks  of  the  foe  in 
the  direction  of  the  mountains,  and  his  heart  leaped  into 
his  throat.  There,  plunging  through  the  press,  and  aim- 
ing his  course  straight  toward  the  Christians,  came  a 
mounted  warrior,  clad  from  head  to  foot  in  foreign  mail, 
a ponderous  battle-ax  circling  about  his  head  and  falling 
with  swift  and  terrible  blows  upon  the  infidel.  A mo- 
ment Ashizuka  looked,  and  then,  like  the  peal  of  a trum- 
pet, his  voice  rang  out  above  the  din  of  war  and  shriek 
of  wind  : 

“ Paoli  to  the  rescue  ! Paoli  ! Paoli !” 

Friend  and  foe  alike  heard  the  words,  and  for  one 


svtth  a wild  shriek,  paoli  dropped  his  ax  and,  reeling  in  his  saddle,  fell.— See  Page  440. 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  435 

breathless  moment  both  Christian  and  infidel  stayed  their 
swords. 

“Paoli  comes  to  our  rescue!  Yaso-Maria!  Paoli! 
Paoli  ! ” shouted  the  veteran  chieftain,  as  he  dashed  . 
through  the  midst  of  the  ranks  of  the  insurgents. 

Still  the  hostile  lines,  facing  each  other,  with  but  a 
sword’s  length  between,  remained  motionless.  The  an- 
nouncement that  Paoli  was  still  alive — that  he  was  even 
then  in  the  field — filled  the  despairing  hearts  of  the 
Christians  with  a new  hope,  and  paralyzed  with  terror 
the  souls  of  the  infidel.  Just  then  a burst  of  flame  darted 
across  the  heavens,  and  in  the  dazzling  light  all  beheld 
the  tall  form  of  the  Jesuit,  now  almost  at  the  side  of  the 
Christians.  Before  the  lightning  flashed  forth  again,  he 
was  among  them,  and  friend  and  foe  heard  the  tiger-roar 
of  his  voice  : 

“ Ho,  Swords  of  the  Church,  my  children  ! To  the 
castle  ! To  the  castle  ! Upon  the  idolaters  and  through 
their  ranks  to  the  shelter  of  your  walls!  Yaso-Maria! 
Charge  them  in  the  name  of  Holy  Cross  ! ” 

A fierce  shout  went  up  from  the  lips  of  the  Christians, 
and,  with  the  sword  of  Ashizuka  and  the  ax  of  Paoli  be- 
fore them,  they  flung  themselves  with  irresistible  fury 
upon  Nabeshima  and  his  retainers,  who  were  drawn  up 
between  them  and  the  castle. 

In  vain  the  heroic  Prince  of  Kai  commanded, 
exhorted,  threatened  ; his  troops  shrank  back  from  the 
presence  of  the  terrible  Jesuit  and  parted  right  and  left, 
leaving  the  road  over  the  ridge  open  to  the  retreating 
Christians.  Finding  all  his  efforts  to  hold  his  men  firm 
before  their  enemies  to  be  fruitless,  Nabeshima  spurred 
his  horse  forward  along  the  ridge  and  through  the  midst 
of  the  insurgents  until  he  overtook  Bishop  Paoli. 

“Accursed  barbarian!”  he  shouted,  “not  for  those 


43')  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


thou  hast  slain  in  battle,  but  for  thy  murder  of  a help- 
less old  man,  my  cousin,  Lord  Mori  of  Unzen,  I call  thee 
to  account.” 

As  he  spoke,  his  heavy  sword  flashed  down  upon  the 
helmeted  head  of  the  Jesuit.  Paoli  was  thrown  violently 
forward  upon  his  saddle-bow  by  the  force  of  the  stroke, 
and  before  he  could  recover  himself,  Nabeshima  had 
dealt  him  another  terrific  blow  upon  his  back,  severing 
the  lacings  of  his  corselet,  so  that  that  part  of  his  armor 
fell  with  a sharp  clang  to  the  ground,  leaving  his  shoul- 
ders and  breast  without  defense.  But  before  the  prince 
could  raise  his  sword  for  another  stroke,  Paoli  had 
wrenched  his  horse  around,  and,  rising  in  his  saddle, 
swung  his  ponderous  ax  above  his  head.  Knowing  how 
vain  it  would  be  to  endeavor  to  parry  the  coming  blow 
with  his  sword,  Nabeshima  threw  his  horse  back  upon 
his  haunches,  and  the  deadly  blow  that  would  have  clo- 
ven the  rider  to  the  teeth,  falling  short  of  him,  descended 
upon  the  neck  of  the  steed,  almost  severing  the  head  from 
the  body.  With  a frantic  leap  forward,  the  wounded 
brute  swayed  back  and  forth  for  an  instant  on  the  brink 
of  the  steep  slope,  and,  before  Nabeshima  realized  his 
peril,  horse  and  rider  were  plunging  downward  through 
the  darkness  into  the  miry  morass  below.  With  an  ex- 
ultant laugh,  Paoli  turned  to  Ashizuka  and  shouted 
through  the  storm  : 

“ God  has  avenged  himself  upon  that  atheist,  the  arch- 
enemy of  his  people.  Yaso-Maria!  that  was  the  best 
blow  I ever  struck  in  the  name  of  the  Cross.  Heed  it 
not,”  he  continued,  as  his  companion  dismounted  to  pick 
up  the  fallen  corselet,  “our  holy  cause  shall  be  my 
breast-plate.  Ashizuka,  lead  thou  our  brethren  into  the 
shelter  of  their  walls.  I go  to  the  help  of  those  in  the 
rear,  who  are  still  struggling  against  the  heathen 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  437 


and,  saying  this,  Paoli  dashed  off  along  the  ridge  and 
out  upon  the  plain,  where  Ogasawara  and  his  veterans 
still  maintained  a desperate  onslaught  upon  the  Chris- 
tians. 

“ Upon  them,  soldiers  of  the  cross  ! ” roared  now  the 
voice  of  Paoli  in  the  ears  of  the  brave  little  band. 
“ Saints  and  angels  are  our  defense  in  this  holy  war. 
Charge  them  anew,  warriors  of  the  Lord  ! Woe  to  the 
infidel  !” 

With  redoubled  efforts,  the  Christians  responded  to  the 
call  of  the  Jesuit,  and  the  resolute  impetuosity  of  their 
charge,  together  with  the  terror  Paoli  inspired  among  the 
foe,  drove  the  Satsuma  men  back  across  the  plain  into  the 
ruined  camp. 

“To  the  castle  now,  my  brethren,  while  the  way  is 
clear  !”  again  rang  out  the  commanding  voice  of  Paoli, 
and  in  obedience  to  his  order,  the  Christians  fell  back 
upon  the  ridge,  the  government  troops  not  venturing  a 
pursuit. 


XIII. 

AT  LAST. 

Resting  his  ax  upon  the  saddle-bow,  Bishop  Paoli 
reined  in  his  steed  and  waited  until  the  last  Christian  had 
passed  by.  For  a time  he  remained  there  as  if  plunged 
in  deep  thought.  Then,  as  he  finally  turned  his  horse’s 
head  in  the  direction  of  the  castle,  he  became  aware  of 
some  one  riding  toward  him,  and,  by  the  flash  of  light- 
ning that  a moment  after  lit  up  the  scene,  he  recognized 
the  approaching  horseman  to  be  Marmion  Beaumont. 

“Murderer!”  cried  the  Englishman,  hoarsely,  as  he 
drew  rein  by  the  Jesuit’s  side,  “ where  is  Una  Mori  ?” 


438  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


“ Holy  Cross  ! Senor  Beaumont,  thou  here  ?”  ex- 
claimed the  bishop,  in  astonishment  and  with  an  evident 
desire  to  be  cordial.  Then  he  added,  in  a grieved  tone  : 
“ Thou  here,  and  with  a naked  sword  in  thy  hand  and 
curses  for  an  old  friend  upon  thy  lips  !” 

“ No  friend  of  thine,  thou  slayer  of  the  helpless  ! but 
the  avenger  of  those  thou  hast  destroyed  ! Again  I ask 
thee,  where  is  Lord  Mori's  daughter  ?” 

Paoli’s  voice  and  manner  suddenly  became  coldly  con- 
strained and  defiant.  He  spoke  slowly,  and  his  eyes 
blazed  with  the  contained  but  terrific  rage  that  filled  his 
soul : 

“ If  thou  wouldst  know  where  Lord  Mori’s  daughter  is, 
find  and  ask  Nirado  Shiro.  Perchance,  before  this,  she 
and  her  lover  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  heathen  ; 
if  so,  her’s  shall  be  the  fate  that  our  Christian  maidens 
have  ever  suffered  from  the  idolaters.  Perchance,  they 
have  escaped  into  the  castle  ; if  so,  let  her  tremble.  For 
such  as  she,  Holy  Church  has  her — ha  !” 

With  a smothered  cry  of  rage,  Beaumont  had  struck 
out  at  the  Jesuit,  but  in  the  darkness,  with  only  the  sound 
of  the  speaker’s  voice  to  guide  his  thrust,  he  merely 
grazed  Paoli’s  shoulder  ; but  when  the  lightning  again 
blazed  forth,  the  two  men  stood  face  to  face  in  mortal 
combat. 

It  did  not  take  the  Jesuit  long  to  discover  that  he  had 
at  last  met  a foeman  fully  his  equal  in  both  strength  and 
skill,  even  when  he  was  at  his  best  ; but  now,  wearied 
with  the  toils  of  the  long  day,  and  dazed  and  wounded  by 
the  two  heavy  blows  Nabeshima  had  given  him,  he  was 
no  match  for  the  enraged  Englishman,  whose  fresh  young 
vigor  from  the  first  held  him  at  a disadvantage.  The 
loss  of  his  steel  corselet,  moreover,  exposed  him  to  the 
keen,  quick  thrusts  of  his  opponent’s  sword,  which  he  was 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  439 


obliged  to  parry,  as  best  he  might,  with  his  heavy  battle- 
ax,  nor  did  he  dare  to  raise  his  weapon  from  its  position 
of  guard  long  enough  to  strike  a blow. 

Yet,  with  the  odds  thus  against  him,  Francesco  Paoli 
crowded  in  upon  his  foe,  with  a quiet  persistence,  that 
brought  the  cold  sweat  to  the  brow  of  the  younger  man. 
Beaumont  knew  that  it  was  the  Jesuit’s  purpose  to  press 
close  enough  upon  him  to  render  his  long  sword  useless  for 
a thrust,  and  then  to  smite  him  down  with  his  ax.  Only  by 
a continual  backward  movement  could  the  Englishman 
hope  to  baffle  Paoli’s  intention  and  to  weary  him  by 
keeping  him  constantly  on  the  defensive.  The  almost 
unbroken  glare  of  the  lightning  gave  neither  an  oppor- 
tunity for  such  stratagem  as  an  appreciable  interval  of 
darkness  might  have  afforded  ; and  thus,  for  several 
minutes,  the  ill-matched  weapons  rang  quick  and  sharp 
together  as  the  two  combatants,  in  their  constant  change 
of  position,  described  a narrow  circle,  the  Jesuit  always 
creeping  in  upon  Beaumont  and  the  latter  cautiously 
falling  back,  so  as  to  keep  his  sword-point  trembling  be- 
fore the  breast  of  his  foe. 

But  the  fresh  strength  of  the  Englishman  soon  began 
to  prevail  over  the  exhausted  energy  of  the  elder  man. 
Paoli  gradually  ceased  his  unavailing  effort  to  crowd  in 
upon  his  enemy  and  recognized  himself  as  lost.  His 
breath  came  in  quick,  sobbing  gasps  ; he  was  bleeding 
profusely  from  a number  of  ugly  wounds  ; his  strength 
seemed  to  be  fast  leaving  him,  and,  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life,  Francesco  Paoli’s  face  grew  pallid  with  fear. 
Just  then  the  lightning  died  out  from  the  sky  and  the 
utter  blackness  of  night  fell  upon  the  combatants.  Sum- 
moning all  his  failing  powers  to  a last  effort,  the  Jesuit 
raised  his  ax  to  venture  a blow  in  the  darkness  ; but  at 
the  very  instant  his  weapon  was  poised  above  his  head, 


440  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


another  flash  overspread  the  sky,  and,  swift  as  the  light- 
ning itself,  Marmion  Beaumont’s  sword  darted  forward 
straight  upon  the  defenseless  breast  before  him,  and, 
with  a wild  shriek,  Paoli  dropped  his  ax  and  reeling  in 
his  saddle  fell  heavily  to  the  earth. 

Strange  to  say,  at  the  very  moment  of  his  victory,  the 
Englishman  underwent  a violent  change  of  feeling.  The 
mad  anger  and  fury  with  which  he  had  assailed  the 
Jesuit  died  out  of  his  heart  as  soon  as  he  beheld  his  foe 
at  his  feet,  and  a touch  of  the  old-time  awe  and  reverence 
took  its  place.  Trembling  in  every  limb,  and  with  a face 
pale  as  death,  he  sprang  from  his  horse  and  knelt  by  the 
side  of  the  prostrate  man.  Paoli’s  clothes  were  soaked 
with  blood,  his  face  was  bloody,  and  blood  was  flowing 
from  a deep  wound  in  his  right  side.  Beaumont  placed 
his  ear  to  the  Jesuit  mouth  ; there  was  no  sound  of 
breathing.  He  tore  open  his  clothing  ; the  heart  was 
still. 

“ He  is  dead  ! ” cried  the  Englishman,  aghast.  “ He 
is  dead  ! He,  who  so  long  has  been  the  fear  of  this 
nation,  upon  whose  head  a price  has  been  set,  he,  who 
for  years,  has  been  hunted  like  a wild  beast,  has  fallen  ! 
Strange,  that,  after  all  his  perils  and  escapes  among  this 
people,  he  should  at  last  perish  by  one  of  his  own  race  ; 
strangest  of  all,  that  I should  have  been  his  slayer  ; ’’and 
the  speaker  bowed  his  head  in  silent  thought. 


XIV. 


JOYFUL  TIDINGS. 

A shout  from  the  direction  of  the  camphor-grove  roused 
Beaumont  from  the  reverie  into  which  he  had  fallen  and 
called  him  to  his  feet.  The  mounted  soldiers  that  Nabe- 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  441 


shima  had  given  him  were  searching  for  him  ; he  heard 
them  shouting  his  name. 

Without  scarcely  knowing  what  he  was  doing,  the 
young  Englishman  picked  up  Paoli’s  ax  and  hurried  off 
to  rejoin  his  men.  As  he  drew  near  the  grove,  he  met 
two  soldiers. 

“ Our  entire  force  is  scattered  over  the  plain  in  search 
of  you,  Sensei,”  cried  one  breathlessly.  “ We  have  good 
news  : the  young  woman  has  been  found.” 

Beaumont  staggered  as  if  he  was  about  to  fall  ; the 
suddenness  with  which  the  announcement  had  been  made 
overwhelmed  him.  Then,  with  a loud,  sobbing  cry,  he 
sprang  forward  : 

“ Heaven  be  praised  ! Where  is  she  ?” 

“ We  carried  her  to  a little  hut  down  by  the  sea-shore,” 
replied  the  soldier.  “Come  with  me  ; I shall  conduct 
you  thither.”  Then,  turning  to  his  companion,  the  speak- 
er continued:  “Comrade,  go  thou  and  call  off  the  men 
from  the  search  ; tell  them  that  the  Sensei  has  been 
found.” 

The  man  then  asked  Beaumont  to  dismount,  as  the 
quickest  road  to  the  hut,  he  said,  was  a mere  footpath 
through  the  morass.  Leaving  his  horse,  therefore,  in  the 
charge  of  the  other  soldier,  the  Englishman  followed  his 
guide  toward  the  ridge,  passing  over  the  ground  where, 
but  a short  time  before,  Christian  and  infidel  had  met  in 
desperate  battle. 

“Tell  me,  friend,”  said  Beaumont,  anxiously,  as  the  two 
hurried  on  their  way:  “Is  Lord  Mori’s  daughter  un- 
harmed ?”  He  would  have  said  more,  but  his  voice 
choked.  Fearing  the  worst,  he  dreaded  to  hear  the 
answer  to  his  question. 

“She  is  unharmed,  Sensei,  except  as  the  terrible  experi- 
ences of  the  day  and  exposure  to  this  storm  have  pros- 


44 2 Paoli ; the  Past  of  the  Missionaries. 


trated  her.  She  was  unconscious  when  we  met  the  for- 
eigner from  the  ship  bringing  her — ” 

“What’s  that  you  say,”  cried  Beaumont.  “A  foreigner 
from  the  Spuyten  Duyvil — and  with  Una  Mori  ? What  do 
you  mean  ?” 

“ Why,  you  see,  Sensei,"  said  the  soldier,  in  explanation, 
“a  few  of  us,  perhaps  ten  or  twelve,  set  out  for  Unzen  in 
order  to  discover,  if  possible,  the  whereabouts  of  the 
young  woman  and  her  captors.  A little  beyond  here, 
we  met  this  foreigner  coming  this  way,  and  carrying 
Lord  Mori’s  daughter  in  his  arms.  The  man  was  mor- 
tally wounded,  and  lived  only  a *short  time  after  we 
brought  him  and  the  girl  to  the  hut.  Who  he  is,  or  how 
he  came  to  find  the  young  woman,  or  how  he  met  his 
death,  I know  not.” 

“Una  can  tell  me  all,”  mused  the  young  English- 
man, half  aloud.  “ The  foreigner  this  man  speaks  of 
can  be  none  other  than  Van  Sylt.  But  how  came  he  to 
rescue  my  poor  darling?  Can  it  be  that  he  turned  his 
sword  upon  Shiro  and  his  Christians,  the  very  ones  to 
whose  assistance  he  had  come  ?” 

The  two  men  had  now  descended  the  steep  slope*upon 
the  northern  side  of  the  ridge,  and  were  just  entering 
the  path  that  led  across  the  morass  to  the  beach,  when  a 
cry  rose  to  them  out  of  the  darkness  to  their  right  : 

“ Help  ! help  ! Master  Beaumont,  help  !” 

“ Merciful  Heaven  !”  exclaimed  the  Englishman.  “ It 
is  Prince  Nabeshima’s  voice  ? Ho,  Prince  ! where  are 
you  ?” 

Beaumont  heard  a low  laugh. 

“ Here,  Master  Beaumont,  almost  buried  in  this  half- 
frozen  mud,  and  with  a dead  horse  upon  me,”  came  back 
the  reply. 

Before  the  prince  had  finished  speaking,  the  two  men 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  443 


were  at  his  side,  and  their  combined  strength  soon  rolled 
the  dead  steed  off  the  prostrate  rider. 

“ Ye  gods ! ” cried  the  prince,  as  the  Englishman 
helped  him  to  his  feet ; “ the  brute  held  my  legs  as  fast 
as  if  they  had  been  caught  in  a trap.  I struggled  for  a 
time  to  free  myself,  until  finding  all  my  efforts  useless, 
I had  settled  down  to  rest  for  the  night.  Then,  in  a flash 
of  lightning,  I beheld  you  approaching,  and  glad  enough 
I was  to  see  you,  for  I was  becoming  horribly  cold.” 

“ You  have  not  yet  told  us  how  you  came  into  such  a 
plight,”  said  Beaumont.  “ One  would  think  that  you  had 
been  exchanging  courtesies  with  Paoli.” 

“ Excellent  guesser  ! ” Nabeshima  replied  laughingly, 
and  he  proceeded  to  inform  his  companion  of  his  en- 
counter with  the  Jesuit.  “ By  my  life  ! ” he  said  in  con- 
clusion, “I  wish  no  more  such  rides  as  the  one  I had 
down  this  slope.  Yet  I am  thankful  that  I escaped  so 
lightly  ; save  a few  bruises  and  a little  stiffness  in  the 
legs,  I am  as  well  as  ever.” 

Beaumont,  as  the  lightning  flashed  out,  held  up  the 
battle-ax. 

‘‘Ah  ! how  came  you  by  that  ?”  cried  the  prince,  as  his 
eyes  fell  upon  the  bloody  weapon. 

“By  the  right  of  a victor,”  responded  the  Englishman, 
gravely.  “ Prince,  Francesco  Paoli  is  dead  and  the 
young  man  told  Nabeshima  the  story  of  the  duel. 

“Well  done,  my  friend  !”  exclaimed  the  excited  prince. 
“ You  cannot  realize  the  greatness  of  the  service  which 
you  have  rendered  Japan.  But  I shall  make  it  my  care, 
Master  Beaumont,  that  our  obligation  to  you  shall  be  fit- 
tingly acknowledged  by  our  rulers.  You  deserve — ” 

“ Nay,  nay,  say  no  more,”  returned  the  other,  again  fall- 
ing into  the  depression  he  had  felt  when  he  first  realized 
that  he  had  slain  the  Jesuit.  “I  most  heartily  regret  my 
act,  Prince.  But  now,  do  you  lean  on  my  arm,  and  let  us 


444  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


be  going.  You  have  not  yet  heard,  my  friend,  the  one 
glad  message  in  all  the  heavy  tidings  of  this  melancholy 
night.  Una  Mori  has  been  found,”  and  once  more  fol- 
lowed the  recital  of  facts  with  which  the  reader  is  already 
acquainted. 

Arriving  at  the  hut,  whither  the  soldiers  had  borne  the 
rescued  girl,  the  prince  paused  at  the  door,  and  calling 
out  the  man  who  was  watching  within,  said  to  the  young 
Englishman  : 

“ My  friend,  thine  is  the  place  by  the  side  of  my  cousin 
to  comfort  her  in  this  sad  hour  of  trial  and  bereavement. 
Go  and  remain  with  her.  We  shall  make  preparations  to 
take  you  both  off  to  the  Spuyten  Duyvil ,”  and  pressing 
Beaumont’s  hand,  Nabeshima,  accompanied  by  the  two 
soldiers,  passed  on  to  the  beach. 

An  hour  later,  in  the  occasional  flashes  of  lightning 
that  still  blazed  forth  from  the  departing  storm,  a small 
sampan  might  have  been  seen  pushing  out  from  the  shore 
and  heading  toward  the  foreign  ship.  Three  stout sendos 
stood  by  the  oars,  and  in  the  bow  of  the  boat  sat  Marmion 
Beaumontand  Una  Mori.  Both  were  silent,  for  their  hearts 
were  too  full  for  words.  Before  them  lay  the  Spuyten 
Duyvil , an  ark  of  peaceful  shelter  that  was  to  bear  them 
away  from  the  midst  of  the  horrors  that  now  encom- 
passed them  to  a happy  home  amid  the  green  fields  of 
far-off  England.  Upon  their  right  rose  the  beleaguered 
walls  of  Hara  Castle,  and  behind  tiiem  the  plain  of  the 
Christians  stretched  away  in  the  darkness.  There,  under 
cover  of  the  night,  lay  the  multitude  of  the  dead  ; and 
among  the  lifeless,  thousands  of  wounded  warriors,  help- 
less and  forsaken,  moaned  piteously  in  their  pain.  And 
as  through  the  long,  weary  hours  they  lay  there,  praying 
— the  Christian  to  his  saints,  the  heathen  to  his  gods — 
silent  and  unseen,  to  hundreds  of  both  believers  and 
infidels  came  the  merciful  Angel  of  Death. 


HOOK  TWELFTH. 


THE  LIGHT  GOES  OI  T IN'  DARKNESS. 

I. 

A VICTORY  THAT  WAS  ALMOST  DEFEAT. 


late  in  the  day  follow- 
battle  of  the  tenth  of 
March,  that  Matsudaira  obtained  a 
full  report  of  the  losses  which  his  army  had  sustained 
during  the  Christians’  assault  upon  his  camp,  and  in  the 

[4451 


446  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


night  engagement  before  Hara  Castle.  Seven  princes, 
a hundred  and  thirty-one  captains  and  nearly  eighteen 
thousand  soldiers  had  been  left  dead  upon  the  field,  and 
the  number  of  the  wounded  was  very  large.  In  addition 
to  this  heavy  loss  of  life,  was  the  destruction  of  the 
greater  portion  of  the  camp,  including  the  large  store- 
houses filled  with  food  and  munitions  of  war.  As  if  to 
increase  the  distress  and  suffering  among  the  government 
troops,  the  weather  suddenly  became  intensely  cold,  with 
a freezing  rain  and  keen,  high  winds.  The  men,  half-fed 
and  many  of  them  scantily  clothed  and  unprovided  with 
any  protection  against  the  storm,  complained  bitterly, 
and,  finally,  grew  so  insubordinate,  that  all  the  tact  and 
authority  of  their  leaders  could  scarcely  keep  them  from 
disbanding  and  seeking  food  and  shelter  in  Nagasaki  and 
Shim^ara. 

Had  the  condition  of  affairs  in  the  infidel  army  been 
known  in  the  castle,  it  might  have  been  possible  for  Ashi- 
zuka  and  the  surviving  Christians  to  have  again  fallen  upon 
the  foe  with  well-grounded  hope  of  winning  a decisive 
victory.  But  the  thought  of  ever  again  leaving  their  walls 
had  no  longer  any  place  in  the  minds  of  the  insurgents. 
Although  their  losses  in  the  battle  had  been  considera- 
bly less  than  half  that  of  Matsudaira’s  army,  yet  with 
them  there  were  none  to  come  forward  to  fill  the  places 
of  the  dead,  while  the  entire  nation  stood  ready  to  re- 
enforce the  ranks  of  their  foes.  Then,  too,  Paoli,  Shiro, 
Chijiwa,  Oyano  and  Komekine  had  fallen  ; the  castle  was 
filled  with  disabled  and  dying  men,  and,  even  with  their 
reduced  numbers,  their  stores  would  soon  utterly  fail 
them.  The  Christians,  therefore,  recognized  themselves 
to  be  irretrievably  doomed  ; and,  to  their  eternal  honor, 
let  it  be  said,  that  never  in  the  annals  of  heroic  fidelity 
and  endurance  has  there  been  shown  greater  fortitude 


Pa  oh';  the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  447 

or  more  tranquil  resignation  than  that  displayed  by  the 
twenty  thousand  men  and  women  within  the  walls  of 
Hara  Castle.  Death  had  lost  all  terror  to  them  ; they 
were  even  impatient  to  have  the  long,  bloody  tragedy 
come  to  an  end.  Their  stern  resolution  was  to  defy 
their  enemies  to  the  last,  and,  when  the  inevitable  hour 
of  their  destruction  had  come,  to  sell  their  lives  dearly, 
falling  in  honorable  battle  and  dying  as  they  had  lived, 
true  to  their  faith. 


II. 

THE  PRINCE  OF  KAI  ASTONISHES  M ARM  ION  BEAUMONT. 

Toward  the  evening  of  the  day  of  which  we  have 
been  speaking,  the  Prince  of  Kai  paid  a visit  to  the 
Spuyten  Duyvil.  Marmion  Beaumont  and  our  old  friend 
Captain  Jansen  Van  Neist  met  him  at  the  gangway,  and, 
after  an  interchange  of  greeting,  Nabeshima  inquired 
concerning  his  cousin  Una  Mori. 

“ She  is  resting,  Prince,”  the  Englishman  returned. 
“Alas,  poor  girl  ! Yesterday’s  horrors  have  prostrated 
her,  and  it  will  be  many  days,  I fear,  before  she  is  herself 
again.” 

Nabeshima’s  face  showed  the  deep  concern  he  felt. 

“ Let  us  be  thankful,”  he  said,  consolingly,  “that  we 
have  her  with  us  at  all.  When  I reflect  upon  the  terrible 
perils  that  threatened  her,  and  her  wonderful  deliverance, 
my  heart  is  filled  with  gratitude  to  the  merciful  Provi- 
dence that  shielded  her  and  has  given  her  to  us  again. 
But,  Master  Beaumont,  you  have  already  heard  from 


448  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Una,  I presume,  the  story  of  her  rescue  ?”  and  the  prince 
turned  a questioning  look  upon  the  Englishman. 

“Yes,”  replied  the  other,  “ I have  heard  all.  It  seems 
that  after  I left  Van  Sy It  last  night,  he  wandered  off  in 
the  direction  of  the  mountains,  possibly  in  the  hope  of 
meeting  Shiro  and  Paoli.  However  that  may  be,  he 
chanced  upon  Gonroku  and  his  band  just  after  they  had 
cut  down  the  young  Christian  chieftain  and  his  compan- 
ions. The  brave  fellow  at  once  threw  himself  upon  the 
outlaws,  determined  either  to  rescue  Una,  or  to  perish  in 
the  effort.  Gonroku’s  party  evidently  thought  he  was 
Paoli,  for  they  shouted  the  Jesuit’s  name  and  three  of 
them  fled.  The  other  three,  however,  gave  battle,  and 
though  Van  Sylt  slew  them  all,  he  himself  was  mortally 
wounded.  With  the  rest  of  the  story — how  some  of  your 
retainers,  Prince,  found  the  gallant  officer  and  Una,  and 
how  Van  Sylt  died  shortly  after  reaching  the  hut — you 
are  already  acquainted.” 

“ Gallant  fellow  !”  exclaimed  Nabeshima,  deeply  moved 
at  what  he  had  heard.  “ He  well  deserves  the  lasting 
and  grateful  remembrance,  not  only  of  you  and  me, 
Master  Beaumont,  for  saving  our  Una  from  an  unspeaka- 
ble fate,  but  of  the  Japanese  people  as  well,  for  two  of 
the  three  robbers  whom  he  killed  were  the  most  despe- 
rate outlaws  that  have  ever  cursed  southern  Japan — Gon- 
roku and  Gohei.  Their  bodies  were  found  this  after- 
noon, near  the  place  where  Shiro  and  his  companions 
were  lying.  But,  Captain  Van  Neist,”  and  the  prince 
turned  to  that  person,  “ the  remains  of  your  officer  are 
still  at  the  hut ; what  disposal  would  you  have  made  of 
them  ?” 

“ It  was  his  wish,”  replied  the  burly  captain,  in  a voice 
husky  with  emotion,  “to  die  with  the  Christians  ; but  it 
was  not  permitted  him,  it  seems,  to  join  them  at  all.  I 


Paoli;  (he  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  449 


would  suggest  that  he  be  buried  upon  the  spot  which  his 
bravery  has  made  sacred  ; the  spot  where  he  rescued 
this  young  Christian  woman,  and  avenged  the  death  of 
his  friend,  Nirado  Shiro.” 

“It  shall  be  so,”  the  prince  responded,  promptly. 
“And  now,  Master  Beaumont,  prepare  yourself  for  a 
surprise,”  continued  Nabeshima,  again  addressing 
his  remarks  to  the  young  Englishman.  “Last  night 
you  told  me  that  you  most  heartily  regretted  having 
slain  Francesco  Paoli  ; there  is  no  more  occasion  for 
such  regrets,  because  it  now  appears  that  you  did  not 
kill  him  at  all.” 

“What!”  cried  Beaumont,  excitedly.  “Bishop  Paoli 
not  dead  ?” 

“ Even  so,”  Nabeshima  replied,  with  a smile.  “ His 
armor  was  found  to-day  on  the  very  spot,  I presume, 
where  you  and  he  fought.  A short  distance  away,  the 
body  of  a camp-servant  was  discovered  stripped  of  cloth- 
ing. The  belief  among  our  officers  is  that  the  Jesuit, 
though  severely  wounded  by  you,  revived  after  you  left 
him,  that  he  removed  all  his  armor  and  clothing  and 
dressed  himself  in  the  habit  of  the  camp-servant,  and 
that,  thus  disguised,  he  has  either  escaped  to  the  castle 
or,  perhaps,  has  sought  refuge  among  some  of  the  secretly 
Christian  families  of  Shimabara  Just  as  I was  coming 
aboard,  I heard  that  about  daylight  this  morning  the 
watch  upon  one  of  the  war  junks  saw  a sampan  drifting 
by  out  to  sea.  There  was  a man  in  it,  but  he  seemed  to 
be  either  drunk  or  ill,  for  he  was  making  no  attempt  to 
control  the  course  of  the  boat.  I am  strongly  persuaded 
this  was  Paoli.  The  wind  would  carry  his  sampan 
across  the  bay  to  Higo  or  Amakusa  in  a few  hours,  and 
once  there,  I doubt  not  that  he  could  easily  find  a place 
of  refuge.” 


450  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


It  was  with  the  greatest  astonishment  that  Marmion 
Beaumont  listened  to  what  his  friend  was  saying, 
and  despite  the  wrong  which  the  Jesuit  had  done  to  one 
that  was  nearest  and  dearest  to  him,  he  could  not  re- 
frain from  a feeling  of  gladness  that,  after  all,  perhaps, 
his  hands  were  clean  of  the  man’s  blood.  But  when  he 
recollected  all  the  details  of  that  mortal  struggle,  and 
of  his  examination  of  the  body,  this  theory  of  the  bishop 
being  still  alive  seemed  madness  to  him. 

“ I would  that  I could  believe  with  you,  Prince,  that 
Paoli  is  not  dead,  but  that  is  impossible.  Did  I not 
pierce  him  through  with  my  sword  ? Did  I not  examine 
his  body  carefully  and  find  his  heart  to  be  as  still  as 
that  of  any  corpse?  No,  Prince,  I fear  you  are  again 
falling  a victim  to  the  wiles  of  the  Christians.  It  is  to 
their  interest  to  have  you  think  the  redoubtable 
Jesuit-warrior  still  alive.  Therefore,  when  they  found 
the  body  last  night,  they  stripped  it  of  its  armor,  and, 
leaving  this  and  the  naked  corpse  of  the  camp-servant 
close  together  that  they  might  deceive  you  into  believ- 
ing that  Paoli  had  revived  and  escaped,  they  took  the 
remains  of  their  bishop  into  the  castle  for  burial.  Nay, 
friend,  I know  that  Francesco  Paoli,  when  I left  him  last 
night,  was  a dead  man.” 

Nabeshima  had  listened  attentively. 

“Your  explanation,  my  friend,  would  be  a very  plausible 
one  if  it  had  been  possible  for  any  of  the  Christians  to 
have  issued  from  their  stronghold  during  the  night  with- 
out being  seen  of  our  men.  But  a portion  of  Ogasawara’s 
retainers  encamped  upon  the  ridge,  thus  rendering 
egress  from  the  castle  to  the  plain  impossible.  If,  how- 
ever, any  of  the  Christians  were  left  out  upon  the  field, 
what  you  say  might  have  been  possible.  They  could 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  45 1 


have  taken  the  body  to  the  mountains  and  buried  it 
there.” 

“ What  became  of  the  advance  portion  of  Shiro’s  body- 
guard, which  had  passed  by  before  Gonroku's  band  made 
their  attack  ? ” 

“True,  what  did  become  of  them?”  assented  the 
prince,  musingly.  “ It  is  possible,  but  scarcely  probable, 
that  they  escaped  into  the  castle.  They  may  have,  in- 
deed, found  Paoli — but  whether  dead  or  alive,  who  can 
say? — and  borne  him  away.  When  I came  here,  Master 
Beaumont,  I was  confident  that  our  terrible  enemy  was 
still  alive,  but  now  your  words  incline  me  to  think  that 
he  is  dead.  I fear  we  will  never  be  able  to  reach  a solu- 
tion of  this  mystery.” 


III. 

THE  DAY  DECREED  BY  DESTINY. 

For  nearly  five  weeks  after  the  events  narrated  in  the 
last  few  chapters,  nothing  of  note  occurred  in  the  siege  of 
Hara  Castle.  Matsudaira,  despite  the  wishes  of  both 
officers  and  men  to  the  contrary,  stubbornly  adhered  to 
his  policy  of  starving  the  beleaguered  Christians  into  a 
surrender.  Finally,  on  the  eighth  of  April,  General  Hojo, 
Prince  of  Awa,  arrived  at  Arima,  and,  in  the  name  of  the 
Shogun,  assumed  command  of  the  besieging  army,  and 
his  announcement  that  he  would  at  once  order  an 
assault  upon  the  Christian  stronghold  inspired  the  troops 
with  intense  enthusiasm. 

The  following  three  days  were  spent  in  preparation.  The 
men  were  subjected  to  a thorough  examination,  and  only 
the  most  able-bodied  were  chosen  for  the  storming  army 


45  2 Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Six  Gannons  were  landed  from  the  Spuyten  Duyvil , and 
these,  with  a large  number  of  guns  of  native  manufacture, 
were  placed  in  batteries  erected  at  points  as  near  as  pos- 
sible to  the  walls  of  the  fortress.  These  were  put 
under  the  command  of  Cruger,  the  second  officer  of  the 
Spuyten  Duyvil.  Hojo  had  also  the  whole  fleet  of  war- 
junks  drawn  up  in  a semicircle  around  the  promontory 
on  which  stood  the  Christian  castle,  while  the  Spuyten 
Duyvil  was  stationed  off  its  extreme  point.  On  the  even- 
ing of  the  eleventh  of  April  everything  was  in  readiness 
for  storming  the  fortress  on  the  following  day. 

The  Christians  were  well  aware  of  the  intentions  of 
their  foes,  and,  though  they  knew  that  the  morrow  would 
witness  the  fall  of  their  castle,  they,  nevertheless,  made 
all  possible  provision  for  a desperate  defense.  The  garri- 
son still  numbered  nearly  five  thousand  soldiers,  survivors 
of  the  great  battle  of  the  tenth  of  March.  In  addition  to 
these,  old  men  and  mere  youths  were  now  drilled  into  ser- 
vice, and  hundreds  of  women  also  prepared  to  fight  by  the 
sides  of  their  husbands  and  brothers.  Thousands  more  of 
the  women,  during  the  three  days  of  preparation,  des- 
troyed themselves  and  their  children,  preferring  rather 
to  die  thus  than  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  a brutal  and 
merciless  soldiery.  On  the  night  before  the  assault, 
Ashizuka  found  that  he  had,  all  told,  a force  of  nine 
thousand  with  which  to  defend  the  walls  of  the  castle. 
Gathering  his  little  army  together,  he  addressed  them  : 

“ Friends  and  fellow-Christians,  this  is  the  last  time  I 
shall  ever  speak  to  you,  for  before  the  evening  of  another 
day,  we  all  shall  have  entered  the  Paradise  of  our  God. 
Let  us  die,  then,  so  far  as  we  can,  the  death  of  the  war- 
rior who  falls  in  the  fore-front  of  battle  with  his  face 
to  the  foe.  Let  us  die  with  calmness  and  resignation,  as 
becometh  the  followers  of  the  religion  we  profess.  I see 


Paoli : the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  453 


vour  weakness  and  I know  your  sufferings,  because  I,  too, 
have  hungered  and  suffered  with  you.  It  has  been  a 
long  time  since  we  knew  what  it  is  to  have  hunger  satis- 
fied. Many  of  us  have  eaten  only  sea-weed  for  the  past 
six  days.  And  now’  at  last,  when  the  end  of  this  long 
agony  is  so  near,  when  rest  is  in  sight,  shall  we  call  it  a 
misfortune  ? Nay,  friends  : let  us  meet  the  foe  to-morrow 
as  bravely  as  we  have  in  the  past  ; let  us  hide  from  him, 
if  we  can,  our  hunger  and  weakness  ; and  let  us  wel- 
come at  last  the  blow  that  will  end  our  sufferings  and, 
though  taking  our  lives,  will  give  us  rest.” 

That  night  but  few  slept  in  either  army.  Among  the 
government  troops,  the  excitement  over  their  coming  vic- 
tory permitted  none  to  sleep.  Within  the  castle,  causes, 
widely  different  from  that  which  lent  w’akefulness  to  Ho- 
jo’s  soldiers,  drove  all  slumber  from  the  eyelids  of  the 
beleaguered  garrison.  Among  these,  and  more  potent 
than  the  pangs  of  hunger  or  the  certainty  of  their  own 
approaching  doom,  was  the  impending  extirpation  of 
their  faith  from  the  soil  of  their  native  land,  that  weighed 
heavily  on  every  heart.  Scattered  here  and  there  through- 
out the  castle  in  little  groups,  the  Christians  spent  the 
weary  hours  of  the  night  conversing  in  low  tones,  and 
the  burden  of  their  talk  was  the  fate  of  the  religion,  for 
their  loyalty  to  which  they  were  about  to  offer  up  the 
sacrifice  of  their  lives. 

“ When  we  shall  have  fallen,”  they  said,  in  broken 
voices,  “Christianity  will  never  more  have  believers  in 
Japan  ; for  we  are  the  last  of  our  race  that  are  Chris- 
tians.” 

On  the  highest  wall  of  the  castle  sat  Ashizuka;  and 
when  at  last  the  dav-dawn  stole  over  the  distant  range  of 
the  Higo  Mountains,  and  the  waters  of  the  Shimabara  gulf, 
stretching  away  from  his  feet,  began  to  sparkle  in  the 


454  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


growing  light,  he  looked  toward  the  camp  of  the  govern- 
ment troops,  and  beheld  Hojo’s  army  pouring  out  into 
the  plain,  and  there  forming  in  battle  array.  Descend- 
ing from  the  wads,  Ashizuka  soon  had  the  Christians  in 
position  behind  their  defenses,  with  loaded  guns,  while, 
as  on  previous  occasions,  the  slingers  were  stationed  on 
the  upper  walls;  and  there,  too,  stood  every  catapult  filled 
with  stones.  The  government  troops,  massed  together 
in  dense  columns,  that  filled  the  entire  plain  before  the 
ridge,  were  also  impatiently  awaiting  the  orders  to  move 
forward.  It  was  their  commander-in-chief’s  plan  to  open 
a cannonade  upon  the  castle  from  both  the  war-junks  and 
the  shore  batteries,  and,  under  cover  of  the  heavy  fire,  to 
throw  forward  his  storming  columns  upon  the  outer  in- 
trenchments  of  the  Christians.  At  last,  everything  was 
ready  for  the  struggle,  and  just  as  the  first  rays  of  the 
rising  sun  crowned  the  gray  peak  of  Unzen  with  a halo 
of  light,  Hojo’s  artillery,  from  both  land  and  sea,  thun- 
dered forth  the  first  notes  of  battle. 

The  Christians,  well  protected  by  their  defenses, 
suffered  but  little  from  the  furious  fire  that  the  land 
batteries  poured  upon  them,  so  long  as  they  did  not 
expose  themselves  upon  the  walls.  They  soon  perceived 
through  the  clouds  of  drifting  smoke  that  one  division  of 
the  government  army  was  already  in  motion  and  bearing 
down  upon  them.  This  was  Nabeshima’s  detachment, 
and  at  its  head  rode  the  prince  himself,  who,  eager  to 
carry  into  execution  a plan  he  had  devised  for  storming 
the  castle,  had  ordered  his  division  forward  as  soon  as  the 
batteries  opened  fire,  without  waiting  for  Hojo’s  permis- 
sion. The  general-in-chief,  seeing  this  movement,  sent  a 
messenger  with  orders  for  Nabeshima  to  return,  but  be- 
fore he  could  be  reached,  the  other  princes,  thinking  that 
he  had  been  commanded  to  lead  the  attack  and  that  it 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  455 


was  their  duty  to  follow  after,  put  their  own  troops  in 
motion,  and  soon  the  whole  army,  madly  shouting,  beat- 
ing drums,  blowing  shells  and  waving  banners  in  the  air, 
was  sweeping  forward  upon  the  defenses  of  the  Chris- 
tians. 

To  the  surprise  of  the  insurgents,  the  Prince  of  Kai, 
instead  of  throwing  his  troops  upon  them  turned  to  the 
left  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  ridge  and  began  to  descend 
into  the  marshy  valley.  The  other  princes  were  as  much 
astonished  at  this  movement  as  were  the  Christians,  and, 
wondering  if  at  the  last  moment  Nabeshima’s  courage 
had  failed  him,  they  pressed  on  to  the  attack.  As  soon 
as  they  reached  the  outer  defenses,  the  insurgents  fired 
into  their  advancing  columns,  and  the  vanguard  wav- 
ered and  finally  fell  back,  leaving  the  ground  covered 
with  their  dead  and  wounded.  Again  the  heavy  columns 
swept  forward  toward  the  fortifications,  and  once  again 
a murderous  fire  tore  their  ranks  and  hurled  them  back 
shattered  and  in  the  utmost  disorder.  Just  at  this  junc- 
ture, Ogasawara  with  five  thousand  of  his  Satsuma 
veterans,  was  pressing  on  to  the  assault,  and  his  troops, 
opening  their  ranks,  allowed  the  discomfited  van-guard 
to  pass  through,  and  then  closing  again  and  presenting 
an  unbroken  front  to  the  Christians,  they  rushed  upon 
the  hostile  defenses  with  the  determination  to  carry  them 
or  to  mingle  their  blood  with  that  of  the  hundreds  that 
had  already  fallen  in  this  slaughter-ground  of  the  foe. 

The  battle  now  assumed  the  most  terrific  character 
imaginable.  Never  before  in  the  siege  of  Hara  Castle 
had  such  immense  numbers  assailed  with  united  effort 
the  stronghold  of  the  Christians  ; nor  had  the  govern- 
ment troops  ever  hurled  themselves  on  the  enemy  with  such 
persistent  fury  and  recklessness  as  now.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  Christians  were  inspired  with  the  forlorn  hope 


456  Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


that  if  they  could  but  roll  back  once  or  twice  more  the 
onslaught  of  their  foes,  Hojo,  alarmed  at  the  heavy  loss 
of  life  among  his  troops,  might  call  them  off  the  field, 
and  a brief  respite  be  given  to  the  fainting  defenders, 
who,  now,  for  the  moment,  forgot  their  hunger  and 
weakness  in  the  glowing  fury  and  excitement  of  the 
conflict.  They  worked  the  few  remaining  pieces  of 
their  artillery  with  exceeding  skill  and  quickness,  and 
the  roar  of  their  guns,  blending  with  the  deafening  re- 
ports from  the  land  batteries,  was  answered  by  the 
heavy  firing  from  the  Spuyten  Duyvil  and  the  fleet  of  war- 
junks  on  the  bay,  and  with  the  incessant  rattle  of  mus- 
ketry and  the  fierce  shouts  of  the  combatants,  the  uproar 
of  battle  echoed  and  bellowed  through  the  rocky  ravines 
of  Unzen,  and  was  distinctly  heard  at  Nagasaki,  twenty 
miles  away. 

Ogasawara’s  troops,  in  the  face  of  the  deadly  fire  that 
was  fast  thinning  their  ranks,  swept  forward  without 
faltering  till  they  reached  the  fortifications.  Then,  as 
they  seemed  literally  to  melt  away  before  the  storm  of 
death  that  was  poured  into  their  very  faces,  they  wavered 
for  a moment,  and  in  another  minute  would  probably 
have  broken  and  fled  had  not  their  chieftain,  through 
a rift  in  the  battle-cloud  that  hung  like  a pall  over 
plain  and  castle,  caught  a glimpse  of  the  banner  of  Kai 
already  within  the  defenses.  The  wily  Nabeshima,  des- 
cending into  the  valley,  had  scaled  the  steep  hill-side  at 
another  point,  and,  unseen  by  the  Christians  who  were 
engaged  with  the  main  body  of  the  army  in  front,  had 
effected  on  entrance.  Ogasawara,  perceiving  this  spurred 
his  horse  forward  and,  with  a mighty  leap,  the  animal 
cleared  the  redoubt,  and  the  troops,  seeing  their  lord  in 
the  midst  of  the  enemy,  rallied,  and  with  a terrific  shout, 
again  charged. 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  457 


Among  the  three  thousand  Christians  stationed  here, 
confusion  now  arose.  The  cry  went  up  that  their  gun- 
powder was  exhausted.  Nabeshima's  men  were  already 
upon  them  and  the  Satsuma  trpops  were  swarming  over 
their  fortifications.  Clubbing  their  guns,  the  Christian 
musketeers  opposed  themselves  to  their  foes,  fighting 
until  the  last  man  had  fallen.  Those  of  the  insurgents 
provided  with  swords  were  more  successful  in  resisting 
the  government  soldiers  and  more  than  a thousand  of 
them  made  good  their  retreat  into  the  main  castle.  As 
they  fled  through  the  gates,  Nabeshima  and  his  retainers 
dashed  in  hard  after  them,  other  princes  were  soon  scal- 
ing the  walls  on  every  side,  and  the  Christians  knew 
that  the  final  struggle  had  begun. 

The  firing  from  the  land-batteries  and  the  war-junks 
now  ceased  and  a deep  and  awful  silence  fell  upon  land 
and  sea,  broken  only  by  the  sounds  of  the  conflict  within 
the  fortress.  Into  the  details  of  that  fearful  carnage  we 
have  no  desire  to  enter.  Let  the  walls  of  the  devoted 
castle  hide  from  our  eyes,  as  they  did  from  the  eyes  of 
our  friends  upon  the  deck  of  the  Spuyten  Duyvil , the 
harrowing  spectacle  of  the  fall  of  the  Christians. 


IV. 

THE  PRINCE  OF  K.AI  BECOMES  A PROPHET. 

More  than  a month  after  the  fall  of  Hara  Castle,  the 
Spuyten  Duyvil  lay  in  Nagasaki  harbor,  her  officers  and 
seamen  busily  engaged  in  their  final  preparations  for 
their  departure  from  Japan.  An  hour  more,  and  the  good 
ship  was  to  turn  her  prow  once  again  toward  the  open 
sea  and  the  far-off  home-land.  Una  Mori  and  Marmion 


45  8 Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


Beaumont  were  on  deck,  anxiously  awaiting  the  coming 
of  the  Prince  of  Kai,  who  had  promised  to  be  with  them 
at  noon,  and  it  was  now  near  sunset. 

“ Can  it  be  that  something  has  happened  to  him  ? ” 
Una  said,  her  eyes  eagerly  scanning  the  shore  and  every 
approaching  boat.  “ You  know  he  is  always  so  punctual 
in  keeping  his  appointments.” 

“ I do  not  understand  his  delay,”  Beaumont  responded. 
“ But  there  is  still  an  hour  ; let  us  hope  he  will  yet  come.” 

A fair  picture,  indeed,  did  this  noble-looking  young 
man  and  the  beautiful  maiden  by  his  side  make,  as  they 
stood  there  on  the  deck  of  the  Spuyten  Duyvil , in  the 
golden  sunlight  of  that  balmy  May  evening  ; he  a perfect 
type  of  the  robust  and  handsome  Anglo-Saxon  ; she,  with 
all  the  fresh,  fair  beauty  of  the  English  girl  combined 
with  the  pensive  and  dreamy  tenderness  of  the  Oriental. 
Under  the  quickening  impulse  of  love  and  the  chastening 
and  maturing  influence  of  sorrow,  Una  Mori,  within  the 
past  few  months,  had  developed  from  the  gay,  frolicsome 
girl  that  had  jested  so  merrily  with  Ando  the  hunchback, 
during  that  memorable  walk  on  Unzen,  into  the  quiet 
and  sweetly  dignified  woman. 

And  Marmion  Beaumont  looked  this  evening  the  happy 
and  contented  man  that  he  was  ; happy  in  the  love  of 
this  good  and  queenly  beautiful  woman,  and  contented 
because  the  mission,  upon  which  he  had  come  to  the  Far 
East,  had  been  successfully  accomplished.  The  fact  that 
he  had  fought  with,  and  overcome,  the  feared  and  hated 
Francesco  Paoli  had  made  his  name  famous  throughout 
the  length  and  breadth  of  the  whole  empire  ; and  though 
people  were  in  doubt  whether  the  renowned  Jesuit  had 
been  actually  killed  in  the  duel,  yet  this  did  not  detract 
a jot  from  Marmion  Beaumont’s  popularity.  Through 
the  assistance  of  the  friendship  and  influence  of  so  pow- 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  459 


erful  a nobleman  as  the  Prince  of  Kai,  this  greatness, 
which  the  Englishman  found  thus  thrust  upon  him,  was 
made  to  aid  him  in  his  labor  of  collecting  the  debts  due 
the  company  he  represented  from  the  Japanese  merchants. 
For  no  sooner  was  his  mission  made  known  to  the  princes 
than  they  took  up  the  matter  in  his  behalf,  and  the 
debtors  of  the  English  Trading  Company  received  notifi- 
cation topromptly  settle  their  accounts  with  the  agent, 
under  pain  of  penalties  that  were  threatened  them  in  no 
ambiguous  terms.  And  thus,  the  mission,  which  so  many 
in  England  had  declared  would  be  useless,  and  concern- 
ing the  accomplishment  of  which  Beaumont  himself  had 
often  despaired,  was  brought  to  a successful  termination. 

“ My  cousin  comes  !”  cried  Una,  joyfully.  “ See  ! he 
is  in  yonder  sampan.  He  is  waving  his  hand  to  us  !” 

“ I see  him,”  her  lover  replied,  in  a tone  no  less  pleased 
than  her  own.  “Ah  ! Una,”  he  added,  gravely,  “ the  one 
sorrow  of  this  otherwise  happy  hour  is  our  parting  with 
this  great-hearted,  noble  friend?” 

In  a few  minutes,  Nabeshima.  accompanied  with  our 
little  friend  Sanji,  whom  the  prince  had  taken  into  his 
service,  was  aboard.  Calling  Una  and  the  Englishman 
aside,  he  said  : 

“ I am  late,  and  I fear  you  thought  I was  not  coming 
at  all.  But  a strange  piece  of  news  came  into  the  city  a 
short  time  ago,  and,  as  I wished  you  to  hear  it,  I was 
anxious  to  investigate  it,  that  I might  know  whether  it 
wras  a mere  rumor  or  an  official  report. 

He  paused,  and  looked  at  Beaumont  with  a peculiar 
smile.  At  once  the  latter  surmised  what  was  to  come. 

“It  is  of  Paoli!”  he  exclaimed  breathlessly.  “You 
have  heard  that  he  is  alive  !” 

“ You  have  guessed  correctly,”  returned  the  prince. 
“As  you  are  aware,  the  government  has  instituted  a sys- 


460  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


tem  of  detective  service  for  the  purpose  of  hunting  out 
any  Christians  that  may  yet  remain  among  us.  A short 
time  ago  some  of  these  officers  discovered  a Christian 
family  at  Yatsushiro,  in  Higo.  Before  their  execution 
yesterday  at  Shimabara,  one  of  the  sons  of  the  family 
told  the  officers  that  Paoli  had  come  to  them  the  day 
after  the  destruction  of  our  camp  at  Arima.  The  Jesuit 
was  covered  with  wounds,  and  for  more  than  a week  his 
life  was  despaired  of.  But  he  slowly  recovered,  and,  just 
the  day  before  our  officers  seized  the  family,  he  had  left 
them  disguised  as  a Ronin.  Such  is  the  report  from  the 
detectives  themselves,  and  they  believed  that  the  boy 
told  the  truth.  The  other  members  of  the  family,  though 
severely  tortured,  would  say  nothing.  The  officials  here 
in  Nagasaki  are  about  equally  divided  in  their  opinions 
touching  the  matter  ; half  of  them  being  fully  convinced 
that  the  boy  invented  the  story  in  the  hope  that  it  might 
save  his  life,  and  the  other  half  maintaining  as  positively 
that  Paoli  is  still  alive.” 

“ I shall  put  my  faith  with  theirs  who  believe  he  is 
dead,”  the  Englishman  said  promptly.  “Prince,  it  is 
impossible  that  the  man  is  alive  !” 

“ No  one  is  better  entitled  to  that  opinion  than  your- 
self,” Nabeshima  answered.  “ Were  it  not  for  your  un- 
wavering belief  to  the  contrary,  however,  I too,  would 
think  that  he  is  still  among  us.  As  it  is,  the  mystery 
seems  to  me  to  be  insolvable.  If  he  be  dead,  we  have  no 
means  of  obtaining  indubitable  proof  of  that  ; if  he  be 
yet  living,  we  may  be  certain  that  he  will  disguise  him- 
self beyond  any  possibility  of  detection.” 

“ Even  if  he  be  alive,  cousin,”  asked  Una,  “ will  he  not 
at  the  first  opportunity,  escape  from  the  country?  Now 
that  Christianity  has  been  utterly  destroyed,  why  should 
he  wish  longer  to  remain  in  Japan  ?” 


Paoli ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  461 


Never  could  the  two  lovers  forget  the  earnestly  solemn 
look  upon  Nabeshima’s  face  and  the  fine  light  that  shone 
from  his  eyes,  as  he  replied  to  his  cousin’s  question. 
With  his  intellectual  vision,  he  seemed  to  be  looking  into 
the  distant  future,  disclosing  what  was  yet  to  be  and  play- 
ing the  part  of  a prophet  before  them. 

“You  say,  Cousin  Una,”  and  his  voice  sounded  strange 
and  faraway,  “that Christianity  has  been  destroyed  in  our 
Japan,  and  so  say  our  princes,  our  rulers  and  the  people. 
But  let  me  tell  you  that,  although  a church  has  fallen, 
the  religion  of  Jesus  has  not.  Christianity  has  been  cast 
down,  but  not  destroyed.  It  will  still  live  on  in  the  hearts 
of  a faithful  few,  who  will  successfully  hide  away  from 
the  sight  of  our  keenest  inquisitors  all  evidences  of  their 
belief  in  the  foreign  creed.  Such  may  be  the  fortune  of 
Christianity  for  years,  for  scores  of  years,  perhaps  for 
centuries  ; yet  the  day  shall  come  when  our  Japan  shall 
again  open  her  doors  to  the  foreigner  and  his  faith,  and 
then  what  has  long  been  hidden  shall  be  revealed. 

“You  ask,  if  Francisco  Paoli  be  still  alive,  will  he  not 
leave  the  country.  Be  assured  he  will  remain  in  Japan. 
Blindly  devoted  slave  of  an  ecclesiastical  system  and  the 
fanatical  and  intolerant  persecutor  of  all  who  believe  not 
with  him  though  he  be,  a hypocrite  he  is  not.  Heart  and 
soul  are  in  the  work  he  conscientiously  believes  himself 
divinely  called  to  perform,  and  his  loyalty  is  equalled  by 
his  heroic  daring.  As  he  was  the  foe  of  my  country’s 
peace  and  liberty,  I was  his  enemy  and  the  enemy  of 
those  who  followed  his  teachings.  Gladly  would  I have 
slain  him,  and  my  heart  rejoiced  when  I heard  that  he  had 
fallen.  Should  it  be  so  that  he  still  lives,  he  will  in  some 
way,  I am  convinced,  serve  the  cause  to  which  he  has 
sworn  an  eternal  fidelity.  How  he  will  do  this  I do  not 
know  ; but  lam  sure  Francesco  Paoli  will  never  surren- 


462  Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries. 


der  his  puipose,  nor  forsake  his  followers,  nor  betray  his 
trust.  Like  the  religion  he  professes,  he  may  be  cast 
down  ; but,  while  he  lives,  never  can  he  be  conquered.” 


V. 

THE  CHURCH  OF  CHRIST  IN  JAPAN. 

It  is  an  hour  later.  Warm  hands  have  been  unclasped 
and  farewells  spoken;  eyes,  dimmed  with  unwonted  tears, 
have  looked  their  last  into  eyes  that  have  returned  their 
lingering  gaze  with  like  sorrow  and  like  fondness.  In 
the  gathering  shadows  of  the  night,  the  Spuyten  Duyvil 
steals  slowly  and  silently  down  the  narrow,  land-locked 
bay;  through  the  outer  passage  ; past  Takaboka,  with 
all  its  awful  memories  ; past  the  picturesque  little  villages 
nestling  in  the  recesses  of  the  rocky  shore  ; past  the 
green  islands  rising  like  sentinels  above  the  bosom  of  the 
waters  ; past  the  white-sailed  fishing-junks,  and,  with 
ever  increasing  speed,  out  upon  the  open  sea. 

In  the  bow  of  the  vessel,  once  the  favorite  haunt  of 
Shiro  and  Paoli,  stand  now  Marmion  Beaumont  and  Una 
Mori.  As  they  gaze  before  them  into  the  heavy  darkness, 
suddenly  they  behold  the  glitter  of  a sail.  In  another 
minute,  a small  boat  looms  up  right  under  the  vessel’s 
bow  ; it  sheers  aside  and  crosses  the  course  of  the 
Spuyten  Duyvil.  The  dark  form  of  a man  rises  by  the 
side  of  the  sail,  and,  standing  erect,  he  flings  a white 
object  toward  the  two  watchers.  High  it  mounts  into 
the  air  and  with  a sharp,  metallic  ring  it  falls  on  the  deck 
at  the  feet  of  Una  Mori.  But  Beaumont  has  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  stranger’s  face  in  the  passing  gleam  from 


Paoli  ; the  Last  of  the  Missionaries.  463 


the  lights  of  the  ship.  He  bends  far  out  over  the  rail, 
straining  his  eyes  through  the  darkness  after  the  vanish- 
ing boat. 

“Who  are  you?”  he  calls  out  wildly,  “Your  name?” 

A half-mocking,  half-exultant  laugh  floats  out  on  the 
air.  “ Let  the  dead  be  nameless  !” — and  the  English- 
man’s heart  leaps  into  his  throat  at  the  sound  of  that 
voice — “yet  vvouldst  thou  know  what  I am  ? Hear,  then: 
I am  the  Church  of  Christ  in  Japan  !” 

And  the  sail  is  swallowed  up  in  the  darkness. 

“Strange  !”  cries  Beaumont,  “how  like  him  in  form  ! 
how  like  him  in  feature  ! how  like  him  in  voice  ! Is  it 
possible?  Can  it  be  he?” 

“ He  it  is  !”  exclaims  the  girl  at  his  side.  “ See  ! here 
is  an  iron  crucifix  that  he  threw  aboard,  and  fastened  to 
the  cross  is  a letter.” 

Trembling  with  excitement,  the  Englishman  takes  the 
crucifix  from  Una’s  hand  and  unties  the  letter. 

This  was  the  superscription  : 


By  the  Kindness  of  Senor  Beaumont, 

To  the  General  of  the  Society  of  Jgsus, 
ROME. 

From  Francesco  Paoli,  S.  J., 

Bishop  of  Japan. 


. 


GLOSSARY. 


Readers  who  may  desire  to  pronounce  correctly  the  Japanese 
words  and  proper  names  occurring  in  this  history  will  find  the  fol- 
lowing rules  serviceable : 

1.  Vowels  are  sounded  as  follows:  A.  as  in  father;  E,  as  a 
in  made ; I,  as  ee  in  eel ; O,  as  o in  Rome ; U,  as  ou  in 
soup. 

II.  Consonants  are  pronounced  approximately  as  in  English. 
Double  consonants  must  be  distinctly  sounded. 

III.  There  is  little  or  no  accent,  all  the  syllables  of  a word  being 
pronounced  with  equal  stress,  or  nearly  so. 

JAPANESE  WORDS  OCCURRING  IN  THIS 
VOLUME  ARE  : 


BETTO,  groom . 

CHOC  BIN,  paper  lantern. 

DANNA-SAN,  master. 

FUKA-AMIGASA,  a hat  made  of  platted  work , and  so  shaped  as 
to  droop  over  and  conceal  the  face  of  the  wearer. 

GEJO,  female  servant. 

HAORI,  an  outer  garment,  or  tunic. 

JASHIU-MON,  corrupt  sect. 

KEKKO,  excellent  ; well  done. 

KOMA-MONO-YA,  a dealer  in  women’s  toilet  articles. 

NIU-BAI,  the  rainy  season,  occurring  in  fune. 

NORI-MONO,  palanquin. 

ONI.  demon,  evil  spirit. 

RONIN,  ( literally , wave-man)  a soldier  without  a master ; a re- 
tainer who  has  lost  his  lord  and  wanders  about  the 
country. 


[4671 


468  Glossary. 


RYO,  a piece  of  money  equal  to  about  five  dollars  at  the  present 
day. 

SAKE,  an  intoxicating  drink  prepared  from  rice. 

SEN  DO,  boatman. 

SENSEI,  master,  a title  of  respect  used  by  students  and  others  in 
addressing  their  superiors  in  learning. 

TEMPO,  a small  piece  of  money,  equal  to  1 mills. 

WARAJI,  coarse  straw  sandals. 

TADOYA,  inn. 

YASO-MARIA,  “ Jesus  and  Mary  !" — the  war-cry  of  the  Chris- 
tians. 

YASO-TAIJI,  “ Down  with  the  Christians  f” — the  war-cry  of  the 
heathen. 


A CHEAP  EDITION 


In  Handsome  Paper  Cover.  Prioe,  50  Cents. 

The  Forsaken  Inn. 

By  ANNA  KATHARINE  GREEN. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY  VICTOR  PRRAJLD. 


Anna  Katharine  Green’s  novel,  “The  Forsaken  Inn,”  is  ad- 
mitted to  be  her  best  work.  The  authoress  of  “ The  Leaven- 
worth Case  ” has  always  been  considered  extraordinarily  clever 
in  the  construction  of  mystifying  and  exciting  plots,  but  in  this 
book  she  has  not  only  eclipsed  even  herself  in  her  specialty,  but 
has  combined  with  her  story-telling  gift  a fascinating  mixture  of 
poetical  qualities  which  makes  “The  Forsaken  Inn”  a work  of 
such  interest  that  it  will  not  be  laid  down  by  an  imaginative 
reader  until  he  has  reached  the  last  line  of  the  last  chapter.  The 
scene  of  the  story  is  the  Hudson,  between  Albany  and  Pough- 
keepsie, and  the  time  is  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century.  In 
writing  her  previous  books,  the  authoress  carefully  planned  her 
work  before  putting  pen  to  paper,  but  this  story  was  written  in  a 
white  heat,  and  under  the  spur  of  a moment  of  inspiration. 

“The  Forsaken  Inn ’’would  have  a large  circulation  even  if 
the  author  was  less  well  known  and  popular  than  Anna  Katharine 
Green.  With  the  author’s  reputation  and  its  own  inherent  excel- 
lence, we  confidently  predict  that  it  will  prove  the  novel  of  the 
season. 

The  illustrations  of  “ The  Forsaken  Inn  ” are  by  Victor  Perard. 
They  are  twenty-one  in  number,  and  are  a beautiful  embellish- 
ment of  the  book. 


A GREAT  NOVEL 

By  the  Author  of  “ The  Forsaken  Inn.” 


A Matter  of  Millions. 

BY 

ANNA  KATHARINE  GREEN. 

MAGNIFICENTLY  ILLUSTRATED  BY  VICTOR  PERARD. 

12mo.  482  Pages.  Handsomely  Bound  in  English  Cloth.  Gold 

Stamping  on  Cover.  Price,  $1.50. 


This  brilliant,  artistic  novel  will  enhance  the  great  reputa- 
tion of  the  popular  author  of  “ The  Forsaken  Inn.”  It  is 
a story  of  to-day.  The  scene  is  laid  in  the  city  of  New  York 
and  the  village  of  Great  Barrington,  Mass.  The  story  recites 
the  strange  adventures  of  a beautiful  heiress  who  is  herself  so 
mysterious  a creature  that  the  reader  cannot  fathom  her  charac- 
ter until  the  final  explanation  and  denouement  of  the  plot. 
She  is  an  intellectual  and  talented  girl  whose  musical  gifts  make 
her  admired  and  beloved  by  her  own  sex,  and  the  object  of 
passionate  adoration  of  the  other.  The  artistic  life  is  pictured 
and  exemplified  by  two  of  the  principal  characters.  Everything 
conspires  to  make  the  story  one  of  strong  dramatic  interest. 
The  illustrations  are  admirable,  and  the  book  is  beautifully 
printed  and  exquisitely  bound. 

ROBERT  BONNER’S  SONS,  Publishers, 

Comer  of  William  and  Spruce  Streets,  New  York  City. 


A UNIVERSALLY  POPULAR  BOOK. 


Great  Senators  of  the  United  States 

FORTY  YEARS  AGO, 

By  OLIVER  DYER, 

Is,  beyond  all  question,  the  most  popular  book  that  has  been 
published  in  many  years.  Mr.  Dyer  was  a reporter  in  the 
United  States  Senate  in  1848  and  1849,  and  he  gives  vivid 
sketches  of  Calhoun,  Benton,  Clay,  Webster,  Gen.  Houston, 
Jefferson  Davis,  William  H.  Seward,  Martin  Van  Buren,  and 
other  distinguished  statesmen  of  that  period. 


EXTRACTS  FROM  NOTICES  BY  THE  PRESS. 

These  portraits  are  among  the  most  graphic  and  luminous  of  their 
kind.  They  are  studied  and  discriminated  with  careful  nicety ; 
and  they  show  the  men  both  as  they  looked  and  as  they  felt  and 
acted. — N.  Y.  Tribune. 

Among  the  recent  contributions  to  American  history  none  is 
worthy  of  more  serious  attention  than  a volume  entitled  “Great 
Senators,”  by  Oliver  Dyer.  It  would  be  easy  to  fill  columns  with 
effective  extracts  from  this  volume. — N.  Y.  Sun. 

It  is  impossible  to  read  Mr.  Dyer’s  reminiscences  without  being 
aware  that  the  impressions  he  reports  were  genuine.  No  reader  of 
the  generation  following  his  own  can  fail  to  derive  from  his  re- 
miniscences a fresh  view  of  the  great  men  to  whom  this  volume  is 
devoted. — N.  Y.  Times. 

Oliver  Dyer  has  written  and  Robert  Bonner’s  Sons  have  published 
a handy  volume  as  to  “ Great  Senators  of  the  United  States  Forty 
Years  Ago.”  In  it  are  told,  as  Dver  only  could  tell,  stories  of 
Calhoun,  Benton,  Clay,  Webster,  Houston  and  Jeff  Davis,  with 
personal  recollections  and  delineations.  Every  library  and  every 
schoolhouse  should  have  this  enjoyable  book. — N.  Y.  Press. 

“ Great  Senators,”  by  Oliver  Dyer,  is  a reminiscence  of  forty  years 
ago,  by  one  who  is  one  of  the  veterans  of  the  New  York  Press. 
The  sketches  here  given  are  peculiarly  valuable,  as  they  are  taken 
from  nature,  and,  by  a sudden  flash,  give  an  insight  into  character. 
We  could  fill  columns  with  extracts  from  these  delightful  pages, 
but  we  shall  give  not  one,  because  we  prefer  to  send  our  readers  to 
the  book  itself.— N.  Y.  Evangelist. 


RETAIL  PRICE  OF  “GREAT  SENATORS,”  $1.00. 

For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of 
price,  by 

ROBERT  BONNER’S  SONS,  Publishers, 

Corner  William  and  Spruce  Streets,  New  York. 


A NATIONAL  BOOK. 


The  New  South, 

By  HENRY  W.  GRADY. 

With  a Character  Sketch  of 

HENRY  W.  GRADY, 

By  OLIVER  DYER, 

Author  of  “ Great  Senators 

I6mo.  Bound  in  Cloth.  Uniform  "With  “Great  Senators.”  With 
Portrait.  Price,  $1.00. 


“ The  New  South  ” is  a work  of  national  importance.  It  is  an 
eloquent  presentation  of  the  changed  condition  of  the  South,  the 
facts  of  her  present  growth  and  prosperity,  and  the  resources  which 
insure  her  magnificent  destiny.  Mr.  Grady  was  an  ardent  pa- 
triot. His  imagination  was  aflame  with  bright  visions  of  the  fu- 
ture of  his  beloved  country.  He  had  a mind  which  was  equal  to 
his  great  heart,  and  he  undertook  the  splendid  task  of  educating 
and  enlightening  his  countrymen,  and  exhibiting  the  inexhaustible 
riches  of  her  fertile  soil,  her  beds  of  coal  and  iron,  her  great  staple, 
the  cotton  of  the  world’s  commerce,  and  her  majestic  water 
courses  which  furnish  the  power  and  assurance  of  empire.  His 
book  is  his  monument. 

Mr.  Dyer’s  character  sketch  of  Henry  W.  Grady  is  an  admir- 
able account  of  the  great  orator  and  journalist.  It  will  be  read 
with  enthusiastic  approval  by  every  friend  and  admirer  of  Mr. 
Grady  in  the  North  as  well  as  in  the  South.  The  author  of 
“ Great  Senators  ” has  grasped  the  character  and  presented  the 
spiritual  side  of  his  subject  with  a power  and  truth  which  indicate 
a great  writer.  

RETAIL  PRICE  OF  “THE  NEW  SOUTH,”  $1.00. 

For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of 
price,  by 

ROBERT  BONNER’S  SONS,  Publishers, 

Corner  William  and  Spruce  Streets,  New  York. 


Five  Years 

WITH  THK 

Congo  Cannibals. 

By  HERBERT  WARD. 


Magnificently  Illustrated  With  Many  Full-Page  Engravings  After 
Original  Drawings  Made  on  the  Spot  By  the  Author.  Crown 
Octavo,  Elegantly  Bound,  $3.00. 


Herbert  Ward’s  book  is  the  record  of  five  years  spent  with  the 
most  savage  tribes  of  the  far  interior  of  Africa,  It  contains 
many  facts,  hitherto  unknown,  concerning  the  life,  customs  and 
superstitions  of  the  cannibal  races.  It  abounds  with  thrilling 
adventures,  and  the  story  it  tells  of  risks  and  dangers  encountered 
in  strange  places,  and  among  wild  and  hostile  people,  is  one  of 
fascinating  interest.  A flood  of  light  is  thrown  on  the  horrors 
and  cruelties  existing  among  th^  millions  of  Central  Africa. 

Mr  Ward’s  travels  in  Africa  commenced  in  1884,  when  he  re- 
ceived an  appointment  in  the  service  of  the  Congo  Free  State. 
He  was  a member  of  the  Emin  Bey  Relief  Expedition,  and  while 
in  the  service  of  Mr.  H.  M.  Stanley,  he  made  his  memorable  canoe 
journey  of  eleven  hundred  miles  on  the  Congo. 

His  book  contains  entirely  new  matter  about  the  tribes  of  Cen- 
tral Africa,  will  have  permanent  interest  and  value,  and  will  be 
the  standard  work  on  that  subject 


(esar  Birotteau 

from  the  French  of 

Honore  De  Balzac 


With  Fourteen  Choice  Illustrations 
By  HARRY  C.  EDWARDS. 

Paper  Cover,  50  Cents.  Bound  in  Cloth,  $1.00. 


The  novels  of  Honore  De  Balzac  are  among  the  greatest  works 
of  the  kind  that  any  country  has  produced.  That  they  go  deeper 
into  the  human  heart,  represent  more  truly  human  passions,  and 
reflect  with  greater  accuracy  the  multiform  phases  of  human  life 
than  the  works  of  any  other  novelist  is  claimed  for  him  by  some 
of  the  foremost  critics  of  the  world.  Cesar  Birotteau  is  one  of 
his  most  beautiful  and  characteristic  novels. 

For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  re- 
ceipt of  price,  by 

ROBERT  BONNER’S  SONS,  Publishers, 

Cor.  William  and  Spruce  Sts.,  New  York. 


Ottilie  Aster’s 
Silence. 

A NOVEL. 


Translated  From  the  German 


By  MRS.  D.  M.  LOWREY. 


With  Numerous  Choice  Illustrations  By  Warren  B.  Davis. 


Paper  Cover,  50  Cents.  Bound  Volume,  $1.00. 


No  more  charming  story  of  the  love-life  of  a married  couple 
was  ever  portrayed  in  the  pages  of  a novel.  Romance  does 
not  end  with  marriage,  and  it  does  not  require  any  demon- 
stration to  prove  it;  hut  if  it  did,  this  novel  shows  how  great 
are  the  elements  of  romantic  interest  which  exist  in  the  marriage 
relation.  There  is  in  it  the  beauty  of  family  life  in  a pure 
household,  and  the  mother  and  daughter  exhibit  all  the  beautiful 
traits  which  endear  women  to  men  and  make  the  charm  of  the 
world. 

For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of 
price,  by 

ROBERT  BONNER’S  SONS,  Publishers, 

Corner  William  and  Spruce  Streets,  New  York. 


Edda’s  Birthright 


By  MRS.  HARRIET  LEWIS. 


With  Seven  Illustrations* 


Paper  Cover,  50  Cents.  Bound  Volume,  $1.00. 


“Edda’s  Birthright  ” is  an  excellent  novel.  Mrs.  Lews  has 
the  faculty  of  making  a story  thoroughly  interesting.  There  is, 
in  “ Edda’s  Birthright,”  a charming  girl,  who  engages  sym- 
pathy by  her  spirited  behavior  in  depressing  circumstances,  and 
wins  the  heart  of  the  reader  by  her  truly  womanly  character. 
The  scene  of  the  story  is  the  great  city  of  London,  and  the 
heroine  has  many  strange  incidents  and  episodes  in  her  life. 
It  is  her  splendid  courage  which  makes  her  great  charm,  and 
which  finally  wins.  Every  one  who  reads  this  book  will  be  well 
repaid. 

For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of 
price,  by 

ROBERT  BONNER’S  SONS,  Publishers, 

Corner  William  and  Spruce  Streets,  New  York. 


AN  AMERICAN  NOVEL. 


Parted  By  Fate ; 

OR, 

The  Mystery  of  Black-Tor  Lighthouse. 

By  LAURA  JEAN  LIBBEY, 

Author  of  “ lone,”  “ A Mad  Betrothal,”  etc.,  etc. 

With  Fourteen  Beautiful  Illustrations  By  Harry  C.  Edwards. 
Paper  Cover,  50  Cents.  Bound  Volume,  $1.00. 


Miss  Libbey’s  novels  appeal  to  the  young,  and  especially  to 
young  women.  They  are  lively  and  sparkling,  abounding  in 
charming  sentiment  and  with  incidents  connected  with  courtship 
and  marriage.  There  are  so  many  complications  possible  in  the 
relations  of  lovers  that  invention  would  seem  to  be  an  end- 
less chain.  Miss  Libbey’s  books  are  among  the  most  popular 
publications  of  the  present  time,  and  “Parted  by  Fate”  a 
good  example  of  the  very  best  of  them. 

For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of 
price,  by 

ROBERT  BONNER’S  SONS,  Publishers, 

Corner  William  and  Spruce  Streets,  New  York. 


FOR  WOMAN’S  LOVE 


By  MRS.  E.  D.  E.  N.  SOUTHWORTH, 


Author  of  “The  Hidden  Hand,”  “Unknown,”  “ Lost  Lady  of  Lone,” 
“Nearest  and  Dearest,”  “A  Leap  in  the  Dark,”  etc.,  etc. 


Paper  Coyer,  50  Cents.  Bound  Volume,  91.00. 


In  this  enthralling  love  story, 
Mrs.  Southworth  has  given  an 
interesting  picture  of  Washing- 
ton society  of  over  half  a century 
ago,  and  of  early  American  poli- 
tics. The  scene  of  the  story  is 
Washington  city  and  vicinity. 
The  heroine,  Corona  Rockhartt, 
is  the  granddaughter  of  a Balti- 
more iron  king,  and  one  of  the 
author’s  most  successful  crea- 
tions. The  story  abounds  in 
humor;  and  the  negro  dialect, 
of  which  Mrs.  Southworth  is  so 
perfect  a master,  is  irresistible. 
Her  negro  characters  will  do 
more  to  maintain  the  popularity 
of  her  books  and  cause  them  to 
be  read  with  pleasure  for  years 
to  come  than  any  other  merit 
which  they  possess,  great  as  these 
merits  are.  “ For  Woman’s  Love”  is  a deeply  touching  love  story, 
appealing  to  the  emotions,  and  of  such  engrossing  interest  that  its 
perusal  is  a perfect  delight. 


For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  and  sent,  postpaid,  on  re- 
ceipt of  price,  by 

ROBERT  BONNER’S  SONS,  Publishers, 

Coit.  William  and  Spruce  Sts.,  New  York. 


THE  LOST  LADY  OF  LONE 


By  MRS.  E.  D.  E.  N.  SOUTHWORTH, 

Author  of  “Unknown,”  “The  Hidden  Hand,”  “Nearest  and 
Dearest,”  “Only  a Girl’s  Heart,”  "For  Woman’s  Dove,” 

“A  Deap  in  the  Dark,”  etc.,  etc. 


Paper  Cover,  50  Cents.  IBmiiimI  Volume,  $1.00. 


“The  Lost  Lady  of  Lone”  is 
one  of  Mrs.  Southworth’s  most 
romantic  tales.  The  heroine  is 
a woman  almost  too  exquisite 
and  admirable  for  this  world. 
Her  ideal  type  might  be  the  cre- 
ation of  a poet.  She  wins  the 
heart  of  the  reader  from  her  first 
introduction  in  the  pages  of  the 
novel,  and  every  circumstance 
that  affects  her  life  is  followed 
with  the  intensest  sympathy  and 
interest.  This  story  is  thorough- 
ly characteristic  of  Mrs.  South- 
worth,  and  possesses  all  the 
merits  of  picturesque  narration 
and  description  which  distinguish 
her  best  novels.  The  scene  of 
the  story  is  the  ancient  castle  of 
Lone  in  Scotland.  The  hero  is 
the  heir,  who  has  alienated  his 
ancestral  home  through  a desire  to  gratify  the  extravagant  caprices 
of  a beloved  parent.  The  story  is  full  of  old-world  charm  and  in- 
terest. 


For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  re- 
ceipt of  price,  by 


ROBERT  BONNER’S  SONS,  Publishers, 

Cor.  William  axd  Spruce  Sts.,  New  York. 


